


The Road to Dawn

by SnootSnoot



Series: It's Us Until the End [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Depression, M/M, McBigBang18_19, Other, Stranger to Friends to Lovers, Survival, Violence, Zombie AU, Zombie Apocalypse, attempt at slow burn, death fakeout, mega angst, mention of character death/s, slower than i thought burn, this is just the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 00:09:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18434975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnootSnoot/pseuds/SnootSnoot
Summary: Fifteen years had passed since the start of a chaotic outbreak of an unknown virus that ravaged the United States. Boarders, planes, and boats outside the country closed to stop the spread, effectively trapping millions of people inside without escape. There is little you can love without fearing it’s loss, little hope in ever being among the living again, and little hope for a cure. Mccree is a man always on the move, and ever the optimist and opportunist man, despite the situation Mccree makes do with what he has. Hanzo does not like to rely on anyone but himself, not wanting history to repeat itself. If Hanzo had the choice, he’d live his life in his in solitude, without the living or dead. But whether it was fate or chance that pulled the lone wolf and the cowboy together, it’s now a mission to make it to the eastern sea coasts, where life among the living might yet still be possible. Rumors of a radio broadcast saying that once every two months, a boat docks to sweep up what survivors had come to the calling. However, the journey is not an easy one, because where there is fresh flesh, there is the hungry undead.





	1. The Road Ahead

The night was cool and calm with the sound of a light wind rustling the autumn trees around the rustic cowboy. The sun had long set beyond and behind the rolling hills, yet the sky was still alight in its dusk. The sky was painted in tones of violets and reds, and the hills and trees were long painted black in the night’s shadow. 

The only light and warmth came from Mccree’s cigarillo, the warm embers, and smoke that dimly lit the man under the hat.

Jesse Mccree pulled his scrape a little closer as another cold draft swept the hills. Mccree entertained the thought that he could start a fire, but there was no telling what it would attract, the desperate living, or the dead.

Sometimes, in quiet times like these, Mccree would sit and ponder which he could be considered, living or dead? Half the world was pretty much dead as it was, well the world he lived in was anyway. Could he even consider himself to be living? It felt much more like surviving than it ever felt like living, rationing food and water, always on the run, and company could be risky to keep. 

As if noticing his owner’s wandering thoughts, the buckskin stallion took ahold of Mccree’s hat, earning a glare from the cowboy.

“Aye now, give that back, Buckeye it ain’t funny!” he scolded, but Buckeye only winnied and walked away with a swish of his tail. 

Mccree shook his head and rolled his eyes with a grin on his face before getting up off the cool, dry grass. Buckeye effectively began to pick up the pace, mischief in every step.

“Come on boy, it’s too late for this kinda play, I gotta wake up early as it is,” he said walking after his horse. Buckeye only chuffed as he turned to face his cowboy, and began to run circles around him.

Mccree put his hands on his hips, raising a brow, “ C’mon’ Buckeye, ya know I ain’t gonna be able to catch up ta’ ya.” Despite saying that aloud, Mccree still ran in circles after his horse, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

Finally, Buckeye slows down and comes to a complete stop in front of Mccree. Mccree smiled, taking the hat and placing it on his horse’s head. 

“What, you were mighty interested in stealin’ it a while ago, thought you might just might wanna wear it,” Mccree teased, petting his stallion down the side of his neck.

Buckeye took a step closer, resting his large head on Jesse’s shoulder, the hat now had fallen down onto the ground. Jesse didn’t mind it much as he reaches up with both hands to hug his horse’s neck. 

“Yeah, I know bud, Im’a miss you too. But you know you can’t come along, it’s too dangerous. You ain’t got room to run in the city like ya do in the hills and woods, you don’t know what’s in those alleys ready ta’ pounce. Now dontcha worry about me, you know I always come back. Who knows, some stranger might come by with a fresh apple to feed ya,” he said with a tone of optimism, but Buckeye only chuffed again. 

 

“Alright maybe not the apple part, but I’ll come back with somethin’ tasty,” he said, lightly patting his back before moving to pick up his hat and move back under the tree he sat under. Buckeye dutifully followed, standing next to his cowboy.

The sun was long gone by now, and with no light from the dead city not too far away, the stars and moon finally reclaim the night as their domain. ‘Maybe some beauty is to come yet from the hell of it all,’ Mccree would think to himself every time he looked up at the stars at night.

When Jesse finally let out a big yawn, he laid his bedroll out, using his human arm as a pillow under him while his prosthetic lays atop his gun under the covers. Peacekeeper always had to be in his hand while he slept, an old habit from his Deadlock days, where you never know what you’d wake up to or without.

Soon, sleep finally took it’s grasp onto Jesse Mccree as his eyes fluttered shut, the sound of the rustling trees and the warmth of his scrape and covers lulled him deep into his mind. 

Suddenly, he was 17 again, the city around him was bustling and hustling. The streets were filled with the murmurs of people, the honking of cars, and the music between street performers and radio’s blasting. He always hated having to come into the city, always so crowded and felt all so claustrophobic, Jesse much preferring the open terrain the ranch had offered him.

He was there on behalf of his boss, as he ordered some extra feed they had needed for the ranch and had sent Mccree to pick it up. It seemed easy enough not counting the traffic he’d have to go through, but Jesse Mccree didn’t mind as he could sing along with the radio or text his pal’s at the ranch while he waited. 

He couldn’t exactly remember what song he was singing along to, and even the last message he sent when he suddenly noticed the chaos outside and that godforsaken beep of the broadcast interruption. When he looked up, people were running and hopping out of their cars, and the screams were faint among the alarming noise on the radio. The music was long since interrupted, and a warning announcement was played on repeat instead. 

“The following message is a countrywide alert, a deadly disease has begun to rapidly spread among the population. Symptoms include an increase in irritation, salvation, pupil dilation, intense migraines, and aggressive behavior. If you are near anyone with these symptoms, remain calm and move away as quick as possible, do not get bit, or have their blood enter any open wound-” 

Mccree had zoned out, even more confused as he stepped out of the car and into the chaotic streets of the city. People brushed past his shoulder, nearly knocking off his hat. Suddenly, everything seemed to have gone mute around him.

He finds himself face to face towards someone, no, it felt more like a something to him. The man was sickly pale, and eyes bloodshot and wide. He salvates like a starved lion whose face to face with prey he could not find in weeks. Pupils dilated, heavy breathing, almost growling, and body shuddering as they have a stare down. Finally, it takes a step forward, and when Mccree startles, it begins to sprint. 

Jesse Mccree suddenly finds himself jumping over the hood of his truck and dashing with the others on the street. He can feel it’s eye burrowing into his skin, set on him like a predator. 

Mccree drifted into an alley, running for his life, as now several of the feral people had begun to chase him among others who had followed in hopes of a chance to escape. they were met by a warehouse, it’s closed doors felt more of a refuge than the eventual collapse of exhaustion and become the prey of the predators that kept on their heels. 

As they reached the warehouse large doors, they attempted to pull it open only to find it locked shut. In a panic, Mccree and the three others began to bang on the door.

They implored and begged, the dread that rooted into their stomachs began to free fall and expand by every passing second. 

Then Mccree heard it, the click, the lock becoming undone, but he froze in front of the door as the man and woman next to him are tackled onto the ground, screaming in agony as they were eaten alive by the feral cannibals. That was his fate, wasn’t it? He thought to himself, and was frozen on the spot as he looked back to see the third feral charge at him, only to be violently pulled back into the shed, shivering scared on the floor as he looked up at his saviors and the bloodied bodies of what he could no longer tell if they were men or feral. The unmistakable sound of rapid gunfire and empty shells hitting the ground blasted behind him before hearing the warehouse door shut out on the daylight, and locking. 

Mccree awoke with a gasp and his eyes snapped open. His cold sweat felt like touching steel in winter, as the chilly autumn air blew, and the first light of dawn began to just barely shine through. He laid there for a moment, trying to regain his breath and calm his nerves.

He took a deep breath and quietly sat up, he held his head in his hands and thought about his dream, no, his first memories of encountering the undead. He was so reluctant to call them what they were, he thought before that there was still hope, a cure, a chance for them all to be human again. After all, he’d seen an odd anomaly before, a strange case the man had been. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a loving nudge and a small, thoughtful, nicker. Mccree couldn’t help but smile and reach up to softly rub Buckeye’s nose. 

“ I swear you can smell my distress from a while away,” he says quietly aloud to his horse, his best friend. Jesse gives a long, relieving sigh before getting up. He’d make breakfast, eat with Buckeye, brush him, then give him a big ol’ hug before leaving into the city. It was always hard having to leave his only companion behind, but he would never risk his life for his own. 

He never liked to think it was his last time with Buckeye, but in this world, you can never be too sure. Things were given by luck and taken by a whim out here, and it been this way for 15 years. Maybe he was just good enough to keep Buckeye alive with him, maybe it was luck. At least Buckeye would have a life to live, should Mccree ever die or reanimate, with no doubt several mustangs were running wild, if not the runaway farm horse, living the wildlife like their cousins. 

The sun had just begun to peak over the hills, restoring the autumn colors to the world once more. The sun gave off just enough warmth to make the chilly winds bearable, if not somewhat comforting. 

Jesse Mccree gave Buckeye one last hug, and he could feel Buckeye pull him closer with his head as he ran his fingers through his pelt and mane. 

“I’ll be back, Buckeye. Besides, when have I ever broken a promise?” Mccree says, and Buckeye chuffs. 

“Okay, that was one time with the apple thing!” Mccree defended, only to laugh to himself, as Buckeye softly winnies. Mccree gives a long sigh, resting his head against Buckeye’s, “I’ll come back like I always do.” he said one more time, but this time, he felt like he was more reminding himself rather than his horse.

Mccree stepped back, grabbed his loose pack, and headed back towards the road not too far off. He looks back one last time and finds that Buckeye, although staying behind like he knows he's supposed to, watches him walk away, ears perked and head up. 

He turned back around and towards the road, he was headed to where it all started for him. The sooner he goes in, the sooner he’ll be out.


	2. The Archer's Solitude

Thwack! 

It’s the only sound Hanzo can bring himself to enjoy after years of living in the cold, rotting, city. Amongst the groans and shuffling of feet of the undead, it was the only sound that brought him comfort. 

Thwack! 

Every time he released, looking at his targets in the eye with an intense fire in his eyes, he can feel himself grow more restless and agitated. Eight years of this, and he still can’t shake that enraged feeling in his core, as passionate as it was, it was also numbing. 

Hanzo gritted his teeth as he released several more arrows into the horde, not missing a single shot, not a single head spared of an arrow in its skull. Hanzo runs and jumps up a crumbled wall for better elevation, shooting several more arrows into the horde as the last one falls with a Thwack! 

Breathing heavily through his nose, his eyebrows furrowed together as he climbs back down onto ground zero. He looked down into every face he had shot today as he pulls out his arrows. None were who they hoped they were. None were him. 

Hanzo lets out a deep sigh through his nose, and told himself to let his tense shoulders loose a little bit, that there was no use working himself up, and yet he found it hard. Every passing day, week, month, and year had made it harder and harder for him to contain his composure, his sanity. 

Lost in his own anguish and thoughts, Hanzo did not pay attention to a groan headed towards him, the quick shuffle of feet. It was a growl, a quick bark, and a thud that brought Hanzo back to his sense and away from staring at the faces of the dead. He didn’t fear it though, no, not with Yori around. Hanzo slowly turns around, the zombie mutilated on the ground, and his only trusted companion standing over it triumphantly. Although proud of her kill, Yori gave an annoyed growl like whine towards her human. 

“I knew you had my back,” he began softly, “ I assure you, I knew I was in no danger around you.” he lied. Lately, his thoughts had been dominate over him, but he would work hard to repress them, for both their sakes.

Yori let out a huff before walking towards the reckless man, yet even if she trusted he would be still as function and lethal without her, she owed her loyalty to him, for both his sanity and for the broken human he was.

Hanzo let out a sigh, and his face softened to the slightest smile, “Do not look at me like I was wrong to assume so.” His demeanor lighten as he reached down to pet the wolfdog’s dark ashen fur, soft and warm. 

Hanzo gave Yori a few more rubs atop her head before pulling away. Lingering in one area for too long was a fatal mistake to make in the city. You can fight through a horde, but their numbers are great. Runners, however, were a much harder target. Hanzo’s preferred target. 

While Hanzo scaled his way up a building to the rooftop, Yori fell back into the shadows and hidden paths, if she found anything of use, she'd howl, or carry it back to him herself if she could. 

As Hanzo reached the top, He looked out onto the concrete jungle that he’d laid claim to as his territory. This entire dead city of ruin was for him and him only to hunt down the risen inhabitants. Because out there, one of them was his brother, a brother who had not deserved the fate bestowed upon him. 

Hanzo had all but remembered too clearly, every time he notched an arrow and aimed, he remembered the fate he had brought his brother, the agony he could only imagine Genji had gone through.

Hanzo slumped against a wall behind him atop of the roof he stood on. Here, away from all eyes, even Yori’s, he could let loose his thoughts. He laid his head against the cold brick, staring up at an empty sky without a cloud in sight. The autumn brought him a chill, and soon he’d have to go raid a clothes store for some warmer clothes, and hopefully blankets. Though after 15 years, finding any clothing could be a chore. He may claim to dominate the area, he wasn’t the only survivor in need of supplies. 

He wondered how long he’d actually manage to live in his cold kingdom of the undead. How long until his supplies completely deplete? It was a city, with many stores despite what has been raided, starvation or the cold is least likely to kill him. The dead, however, was another story of its own. 

How long until he becomes too brittle and frail to fight them off? Till he can no longer lift a bow? Unlikely he’d die of old age. He knew his end would most likely come from being overwhelmed. One of these days, his guard will drop completely. Or he’d of lost the will to live again. Would he willingly give himself up to the undead? Unlikely. He’d die fighting, like how he imagined Genji must of. One day, Yori will not be there, he thought somberly. One day, he will be outmatched. How poetic would it be if his brother were to be the one to end him first?

A long, drawn-out howl has brought Hanzo back to reality. Yori had found something, something large, he’d guess, or simply she could not carry it.

Hanzo would have to hurry to her location, however. He highly doubted he was the only pair of ears to had heard her, and Hanzo would rather die than let any harm come to the only companion he trusted. 

Hanzo hurried down the building, the only sound he could hear was his breathing, not even the dead had made noise. This was odd, the dead always made a noise, unless…

Unless the horde had migrated once again, giving room to their much more agile, predatory cousins. Runners, Hanzo had thought to himself. They made noise too, but they did not shuffle and groan, they ran. They growled. They stalked. 

Perhaps fortune had brought him more than just supplies that Yori had found, but the exhilarating hunt he had been craving. Maybe his search and quest could end today, and he would no longer need to linger in his dead, ruin, city.

Though somehow, Hanzo’s gut felt that something much odder, much more in intriguing and unfamiliar was going to cross his path, and his gut had never failed him before.


	3. End of Solitude

Mccree had finally reached the city by midday, it’s concrete structures stood tall, but weak. Its structures are crumbled, the grass, what would have brought lush green to the city in spring, was all but dried along with the dead vines that scaled the walls.

Mccree couldn’t help but pull his scrape a little tighter around him as a chilly wind blows by him, the cold eerie dead city before him didn’t help with the weather either. and the chills came not just from the weather, but the dangers that lurked inside. 

Mccree swallowed hard, shaking the chills away before getting his composure back together to walk inside the city. Jesse is mindful about every step he takes, avoiding the dried twigs, dead leaves, and dried grass the autumn had brought. 

He wanted the minimal amount of attention he could get because the dead were more likely to hear him than see him first, especially in the dead quiet city.

His first destination would be any medical store, he’d gather anything that wasn’t yet expired. Painkillers, gauze, rubbing alcohol, anything. It would be great, not just in case he got injured, but to being back to his friends down in the Overwatch Hospital Camp, especially for Angela.

They had all been so good to him, well, most of them. They were all a makeshift family, stitched together by the horrid event, hope, and a will to survive. The hospital made a perfect sanctuary, with boarding walls, strong iron gates, medical supplies and rooms, a cafeteria.it sat secluded, not too far away from a small town, but secluded enough that zombies in the area were somewhat rare to see, the small town had become all but cleared as well over the 15 years of raids and chaos, a much more welcomed ghost town than a dead town.

Jesse found himself missing them from time to time, the only real company he’d trusted, not just from the years he’d lived there before going rogue, but from the person who’d brought him there in the first place.

Mccree found himself growing a little somber at remembering the past and decided to shake his thoughts from it. He could reminisce later, in the safety of the woods and Buckeye. For now, he’d let his instincts take over. He’ll trust his gut and the pricks of his hairs because out here, even other living people can be a danger. Everyone is desperate, and depending on how desperate, they could turn aggressive.

Mccree made his way to his next destination, the odd quiet made his weary. He couldn’t hear anything but the wind whistling between crumbled buildings and broken glass. No hoards, no shuffling of feet. This city was too big to be cleared like this, which meant one of two things. The hordes had migrated, and he was safe for the time being, or, runners are on the hunt in the absence of the horde.

Mccree entered the sparse store, clothes lying around everywhere, plenty is missing, but some of the items could be salvaged. Hana always complained that she did have “enough style,” which was complete irony in his eyes.

Thinking about it made him smile a little. His main goal was finding blankets for himself and the others at the Overwatch Hospital. Early autumn had been cold as it is, he could only wait to see how bad winter would become this year would be, he might even have to move back into the camp for a while, though, now that’d he’d complain about it. 

While rummaging through the store and gathering a few blankets, and even some extra clothes he shoved into another sack with the blankets, Mccree began to feel as if he was being watched. The hair’s on the back of his neck began to rise.

Jese whipped around, gun in hand cocked and ready, but he was met with nothing but silence and empty air. ‘Those paw prints sure as hell weren’t there before…’ Mccree thought to himself silently, curiously.

The sound of glass shattering shook the tense air as Mccree whipped around one again. Eye contact was made, it’s not the first, but Mccree knew it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last stare down he’d have with a runner. He just didn't expect to have five grouped up by the window either. 

The moment Mccree blinked, they began crashing through the window with ravenous growls and sent Mccree bolting out from the back of the store. A howl broke out into the echoing dead city, but Mccree was too occupied with a more deadly matter.

Mccree knew he couldn’t take them out all right there, he’d need to find some distance for himself. Somewhere he couldn’t be cornered.

Runners were a lot harder to kill than hordes. They didn’t get tired, they weren’t slow, and at the slightest movement, would start a chase. Though they are less in numbers than hordes that prefer to outnumber their food, runners stalk and hunt.

The cold air nipped and bit at Mccree’s throat and lungs, his legs cramped in the cold but he couldn’t let that bother him now. He shot a few rounds behind him, one falling down and toppling over. Mccree took a sharp turn in an ally, only to be faced with two more runners. “Shit” was all Mccree could mutter as he turns towards another alleyway. 

Mccree was pinned against a dead end and several runners. When one runner went crazed on the hunt, others always followed in suit. Mccree was followed by another gut-wrenching realization. He had dropped his pack while running, and he only had 5 rounds left.

The sudden sound of a whiz zipped through the air, followed by a loud THWACK, and the body toppled over.

The small swarm of undead runners had surrounded themselves around Mccree paused in mid-run, stumbling as they looked around, heads turning like a rabid twitch.

Another arrow followed immediately by another, and suddenly the swarm began to be bombarded by a storm of arrows. Then a solid ashen-gray mass jumped from the shadow of the rubbled ally, tearing through the undead with angry growls.

Mccree had finally come back to his sense, and scowled as took aim and began to shoot the undead, taking careful aim with his gun as to not miss. Another mass jumped, hooded and with a massive bow in hand, even in close range the man appeared a deadly force with his bow. 

But their chaos had attracted more attention, between rabid hunger growls, animalistic roars, and the ringing shot of his revolver, the noise alerted anything within the mile around the quiet dead city.

They were becoming too many, and there was only three of them, and Mccree had just run out of bullets. The Archer had reclaimed his arrows along the way, but he could not draw quick enough to keep up with the growing numbers. 

While the ashen canine tears into another, Hanzo becomes surrounded, he contemplates on whether or not he should pull out the Katana he has wrapped in the cloth beside his quiver.

Hanzo doesn’t have the time to react and pull it out, he stabs an arrow into the eye socket of a zombie, swiftly pulling it out and roundhousing the runner into another, sending them both crashing and falling. Another runner rushes him into his left and other on his running towards his back. Hanzo ducks and sweeps them off his feet, taking his bow and smashing their heads with the brunt of it. 

But Hanzo did not see the one headed to his right. Hanzo barely has enough time to react, both being sent tumbling down on the rubble littered concrete floor. The runner ends up with the higher ground and the only distance between him and the zombie his bow. they growl and slobber, grazed bloodshot eyes and bared teeth snarling at Hanzo, begging to bite. their hands grasp and claw at Hanzo’s thick sweater. The others see that one is down, and began to rush on them. Hanzo is prepared for his fate, but not without a fight. 

Suddenly the weight is lifted off of him, a metal fist comes crashing down into the skull of the runner, sending them flying into the pavement next to them. 

Hanzo’s then suddenly lifted up roughly, poised taupe eyes met with intense ruby brown ones. “We gotta get our asses movin’, introductions later.” is all the southern slurred man says before dragging Hanzo by the wrist with a tight grip. 

Hanzo looks back, holding Mccree back. He looks into the sea of eyes, now running towards them. ‘None are Genji anyway,’ he thinks to himself before whistling. The ashen wolf-dog springs up from mauling a zombie, and darts towards the two men. 

The three of them run in the cleared open streets, chased by the growing numbers of runners. The cold air begins to nip at their lungs and necks, cramps threaten to come undone from the constant running. 

Hanzo then has an idea. He races towards a building, jumping up the concrete walls and latches himself onto the rustic iron bars of a balcony. He looks to the side, the ladder is broken, but enough for the man to climb up it and jump. 

Mccree seemed to catch on. He could do it, but then he looks back to the Ashen wolf-like dog. Hanzo did not think that far ahead, and he feels his heart chill and drop.

His eyes suddenly widen as he watched the strange man hoist the large canine over his shoulder. He could Hear Yori growl slightly in discomfort not just from discomfort, but from a stranger touching her, but she did not bite nor struggle.

Mccree began to scale up the ladder as fast as he could manage, but the extra weight began to show as the ladder began to creak and break under the stress. The zombies had now cached up, clawing and shoving one another trying to get up towards Mccree and the canine. 

Mccree managed to angle himself over the ladder where the canine could use him to propel herself towards the balcony. She jumps and lands gracefully beside her master. Mccree gives a small smile of victory. Hanzo reaches a hand over to help, and Mccree begins to lean over so he could jump too, only for the ladder to give way under him. 

In a split second Mccree’s world falls, all he’s done to survive and the promises of return, at least he’d save two others in his effort to live.

Just as the zombies practically lick and nip at the heel of his boot, a strong arm grabs ahold of Mccree, lifting him up with a careful easy, and pulling him over the balcony. Both men collapse backward next to one another, breathing heavy from the adrenaline. Sweat licks them head to toe, a welcome chill against the heat that built up under their skin.

Mccree finally sits up and turns to look at the man who had saved his life twice. He has long black silky hair, kept tied in a low ponytail. Somehow, his goatee is kept neat, and looked as soft as his hair did, despite the grime that came with surviving. His skin is slightly flushed red from running, but other than that had flawless pale skin. Even under that thick loose hoodie, he looked very much in shape, buffed out, and if his skill didn’t show it, him pulling up Mccree’s heavy ass sure did. And his grey eyes, a cold grey that sent chills down Jesse’s spine shot up to meet him mid-stare. He rose an eyebrow in question but did not speak.

Mccree Cleared his throat, “I just ah, I just wanna thank you for saving my ass...twice.” Mccree swallowed hard, a little embarrassed he was caught staring. 

Hanzo stays silent, the groans and growls bellow them hasn’t left yet and probably didn’t plan to leave anytime soon. Hanzo stands back up, dusting himself off, “Thank Yori, not me,” Hanzo says in a hushed tone, before walking up the stair rails, headed towards the roof. 

Mccree scratches the back of his head awkwardly, then looks down at the dark-ashen gray dog. Wolf? Both? He reaches to pet her slowly with his metal arm, for good measure. She sniffs his hand, confused but not alarmed by it, before he gives her some scratches behind the ear. Yori decides she likes this weird hat wearing human. 

A whistle causes both Mccree and Yori to snap their heads up to face Hanzo. Yori follows up the stairs towards Hanzo, and Mccree assumes he should probably do the same. 

Hanzo slumps against a wall on the roof, He watches the odd man walk up with his companion. ‘How in seven hells,’ Hanzo thinks to himself to see that, throughout that whole ordeal, his hat stay planted atop his head. He had a rustic dark complexion, rough but not ugly by any means. His hair was dark, rich chocolate and his beard completed his rugged cowboy look, finished with dark ruby brown eyes, the same eyes that seemed to examine him earlier. ‘Hmph, apparently some of us keep a theme among the chaos,’ he thought amusingly. 

“It’s gettin’ dark...damn I really wished I didn’t drop my pack,” Mccree complains, pulling his scrape a little closer, the cold invading as night approaches. 

“We can retrieve it tomorrow after the runners have left the area,” Hanzo speaks sternly. He isn’t even sure he should speak to this stranger. But then why save the cowman in the first place, when even then he did not know his motive? Surely any man willing to rescue a pet is reasonable enough to communicate with. 

“If it ain’t too big a problem for you. Gotta say though, yer mighty handy with that bow.” Mccree says, taking a seat next to the archer. “Ah, the name’s Mccree, by the way. Jesse Mccree.” He holds out a hand to shake. 

Hanzo hesitantly reaches to shakes it, “Hanzo,” is all he says, nodding his head. He’s a social one, unlike Hanzo who would be content with silence. Hanzo and Mccree both feel it’s going to be a long night.

“So, I reckon you’ve been living among the dead these past few years?” Mccree began, attempting to spark a conversation. Hanzo nods, “I’ve lived here a long while.” 

Mccree hums for a moment, “Why?” he continues. Hanzo sighs, “reasons, none you should concern yourself with.” 

Mccree holds up his hands in defense, “Alright, alright, touchy subject my bad. You’ve got skill though, to risk living out here.” 

“Though I cannot say the same for you, you nearly died twice,” Hanzo remarked with an edge in his voice before he could hold back, only now realizing the rudeness of his words. 

But Mccree only laughed, “Yeah I could’ve been a real goner, but I promise you I got some skill of my own. I also got insane luck,” he finished. A wave of relief fell over Hanzo, knowing the cowman had not been offended. 

“So...ya got quite the companion there? What breed is she?” Mccree asked, looking over the dark ash-grey canine that laid closely beside Hanzo. 

“Her name is Yori, I believe she is a wolf-dog hybrid of sorts... I had found her when she was a pup and took it upon myself to care for her. She usually does not take to strangers too kindly.” Hanzo replies softly, petting her as she sleeps. 

Mccree smiled, “Well she came to my rescue, guessing that howl was for you? Mighty trained,” he asked. Hanzo nodded quietly. 

Silence filled the air again, and for once, Hanzo did not like the feel of it. Hanzo took a deep breath of his own and decided to ask several questions himself now. 

“Do you have a companion of any sorts?” Hanzo asked, looking over at Jesse and a cocked eyebrow. 

Mccree smiled, “I sure do. But wouldn’t dare bring him into the city. I got a mustang, and to say the least, I travel a lot. Named em’ Buckeye. Don’t run into too many undead in the wild. He’s hangin’ around outside the city, waitin’ like he always does.”

Hanzo nods silently as he listens to Mccree talk on about his horse with a sense of fondness. ‘Because all he really needed to complete the cowboy aesthetic is a horse,’ Hanzo thought with some humor.

Hanzo remained silent as he thought of another question. The sun was now long gone, and the night chill had moved in, causing Jesse to shiver a little. 

“Your pack,” Hanzo began bombarding with questions to fill the quiet, “I assume you carry for more than one person, as you carried multiple sacks. You had to drop it during the chase to outrun the undead, Do you have a party of survivors waiting for you as well?” 

“Yeah, sorta in a sense. They’re all the way north towards the woods in a hospital camp, safe n’ sound, and got skills of their own. I ain’t really a full member anymore, but I visit and bring em’ supplies, the least I could do for all they’ve done for me.” Mccree answers, smiling a little in reminisce. 

For how much this Mccree liked to talk, he somehow managed to keep himself just as secretive as Hanzo. He felt that there was more to the story than simply leaving, but he’d not press it any further.

The conversation began to die down between the two men, and despite the cold, sleep was becoming from the events of the day. Both men felt a little better about falling asleep, knowing a little more of the other, even if it had been vague. If anything, Hanzo had Yori by his side should anything go wrong, and Mccree had nothing on him worth stealing besides his pistol, but that always rested in his hand at night, hidden under his scrape.

that night, both men slept sound and dreamless, whether from the exhaustion from the day’s events, running for their lives, or the comforting presences of a live human.


	4. Oddly Enough

Morning moved slowly, the sun lazily rose leaving Hanzo wake alone, not even Yori wanted to rise, giving off a sigh of relief as Hanzo reached down to scratch the half-wolf canine behind the head and ears. 

Hanzo looked over at the slowly rising sun, and just under it, the cowboy who called himself Jesse Mccree. His chest rose and fell, and he could only imagine what he looked like under the ridiculous cowboy hat he wore covering his face from the sun. The reds bled into softer blues and violets over the buildings, bringing some color onto the silhouette of the cowboy.

Hanzo envied the man’s ability to sleep, even though Hanzo had slept in, the sun was still barely rising behind the city. He let out a sigh, still slightly exhausted from having the first good dreamless sleep in months. Hanzo readjusted himself to face away from the sun. His eyes fluttered and began to feel heavier.

 

Hanzo awoke for the second time, shooting up. When had he fallen back asleep? Yori barked, racing over toward Hanzo and attacking him with kisses and whines of joy. Hanzo smiled a little before pushing the large dark canine off of himself. 

A hearty chuckle rumbled throughout the building top, slightly startling Hanzo. He had forgotten that they had company now, it wasn’t just Hanzo and Yori, it was Hanzo, Yori, and Mccree.

“Mornin’, you sure slept soundly. Had Yori worried for you, been keepin’ her busy with belly rubs and crooning,” he says, walking over to offer Hanzo a hand up. 

Hanzo reaches up and grabs his hand, pulling himself up and dusting off his clothes, speaking softly, “I have not slept this much in...a long while.” 

Mccree hums, “Yeah, usually I’m up by sunrise, slept in a lil’ myself. We must've been real tuckered out by that chase yesterday. Not sure I’d do it again to trade for another night of sleep, though,” Mccree says, chuckling at his own remark.

Hanzo rolls his eyes, but a small smile crept onto his lips. He reached down to pet Yori who happily leaned into his touch. A sudden grumble in his stomach brought an embarrassed blush to his cheeks.

“Hey, glad I ain’t the only one craving subsistence,” Jesse said with a smile and a raised brow, raising his hands up in a shrugging motion. 

Hanzo nods, “I have some cans of soup, we should eat before we go and retrieve your pack. The runner may have left, but the horde may have returned,” Hanzo finished, pulling out his small pack and taking out two cans of soup.

“What about Yori?” Mccree asked curiously, looking towards the wolf-dog who laid obediently beside Hanzo, not even flicking his attention over to the now open cans of food.

“She likes to hunt for her food, no doubt she’ll find a rabbit or something other to feast on. Though, during rougher times she will accept eating human meals too,” Hanzo explained.

"I see, guess it's that natural wolf in her huh?" Mccree remarked, smiling as opens up his own can of soup. 

Hanzo passes over a plastic spoon, of which Mccree smiles and thanks Hanzo as he takes it, digging into soup. He tries to be mindful of his manners, but he'd always been a quick eater, sometimes messy. In his world, it gets moving or be left for the dead. 

Hanzo, however, having spent his time finding sanctuary in rooftops, away from almost all undead, and finding the humanity in still being proper as he had once been before the outbreak, before he had lost Genji.

After the two men had finished eating, Mccree cleaning himself up after having finished so early, the two men packed what they had, and headed onwards towards Mccree's dropped goods. 

"It would do you good to follow my lead, I've made this city my home, and like my home, I know the safest and fast routes." Hanzo began, looking Mccree in the eye, sternly, but not threatening.

Jesse only smiles and raises his hands, "That was the plan, after all that trouble you went through to save me, I think it's only fair to trust you." 

Hanzo doesn't reply, but the words dig into him deeply. He supposes that was reasonable, he had gone out of his way to save him twice, but to say you trusted someone was not something so fleeting in these times anymore, or even before then. Hanzo nods and continues towards another building, Yori and Jesse at his heel.

They traveled quietly from there on, it was an unwritten law of the undead cities to do so. Hordes may not have the best hearing, but nonetheless, they could listen. Hordes weren't the only kind of zombie herds either. Over time, they began to change, evolve, and there was no saying which had found their spots among the hordes. 

Hanzo gives Yori a hand signal and low whistle, and just like that she disappears off into a hole in a wall, off onto her own mission for the day. Mccree wants to ask, curious, but the unspoken law holds true, in a city this full of undead at least, so he holds onto his question for later. 

Hanzo leads them onward into an ally, and already the moans and groans of the horde could be heard. Hanzo draws an arrow from his quiver, prepared just in case. Mccree feels slightly useless in the situation, his gun had no more rounds, and his metal arm could only do so much, and only in close range. If he could get to his pack, he could reload, and maybe carry that knife around on himself for good measure.

They stalk quietly through emptied stores and even through rooftops. Hanzo had quietly explained how he and several other unknown survivors he’d seen once around the city have been building bridges rooftop to rooftop, though mostly on the northern part of the city, it's a project for those left, as they needed the absences of the horde to collect supplies. However, it seemed to have ceased, and Hanzo had sat quietly wondering if they had left, or worse, joined the horde unwillingly.

Mccree however, began to remember another story. He had heard rumors among other traveling survivors that there is a strange transmission, offering sanctuary if they can reach the eastern beaches. but nothing more than that, he thought, they must have been rumors. He'd not been able to find the transmission, and last he had checked up upon them, neither had the overwatch hospital camp. 

Mccree's thoughts are interrupted when Hanzo holds a hand out, stopping Mccree in his tracks. Mccree realized then that, they're back at the same shop Mccree had been raiding before being chased by the runners. a chill ran up Mccree back. Hanzo takes the lead, quiet, nearly silent as he walks into the shop. the horde could be heard nearby, but they had the cover of the shop to walk by in, and the dust and musk of the store to hide their scent. 

Slowly they made it towards the same route at the back of the store where both men quietly exited through. Almost as quick as Mccree tensed, an arrow shot through the skull of a zombie before them. Hanzo walked over with caution before pulling out the arrow.

The air was tense as it was silent, the slightest breeze carried over now, unlike the wild winds of the day before. Mccree felt bad, he felt useless. He could hardly do anything but follow. He’d have to make it up to Hanzo somehow, after retrieving his pack.

Just as Hanzo began to turn a corner in the ally, he is roughly grabbed by Mccree and pinned onto the remains of an alley wall. Just as Hanzo was about to whisper a growl and curse towards the cowboy, Mccree quickly puts a hand over his mouth. Jesse’s eyes were stern with a hint a fear, as he released his hand from Hanzo's mouth, he raises a finger towards his lips with a ‘shhh’ motion. 

Hanzo was confused, if it was a zombie he could easily take it out, runner or otherwise. No, this had to of been something more dangerous, rarer. 

The horde could be heard nearby, but not in their general area. They had to stay quiet. It all clicked inside Hanzo’s mind, banshee. They were rare in this city, he’d only seen two in all the 15 years he had been dwelling here. They had odd gill-like slits on the side of their necks, and a mouth that could unhinge. When they spotted prey, they scream so loud that your ears ring and ache. But the scream wasn’t to disarray the prey, no, it was to alert the horde. 

Suddenly shivers ran down Hanzo’s spine. He’s dealt with hordes, but if they get surrounded, they were as good as dead. Their sheer numbers were their way of downing prey, surrounding it like ants to crumbs. 

Suddenly Mccree pressed off of Hanzo, and the next moment Mccree had dashed and rolled to the broken wall on the other side. The Banshee made a high pitched growl, turning its attention towards the sudden movement, but saw nothing. 

Hanzo’s brows pressed together into a scowl. He heard the growl, and he had to trust his instincts. If he could predict where the head was of the creature and aim fast enough, he could-

The sound of a piece of rubble bounced from the other side of the alley, causing the creature to whip around and investigate the sound heard. Hanzo looked to Mccree, who only mouthed, 'now.’ 

Hanzo didn't need to be asked twice. He stepped out and took aim, the creature’s back turned and unsuspecting. 

'Thwack!’, 'thud..’

It fell to the ground, and with it their troubles. Mccree and Hanzo both gave a sigh of relief as they looked towards each other, then both fell into a nervous and relieved chuckle.

“I’d not thought to use distractions, usually I do not need too,” Hanzo says, his voice low but not intending to be rude. 

Jesse only smirks, “ It pays to tricks up your sleeve,” he says, picking up his pack and sack. 

“Say, I ain't sure I asked ya yet, but why do you choose to stick to this city? Ain't get a little lonely, the dead don't make good company.”

For a moment, Hanzo isn't sure how to reply, or even if he should. 'I cause my brother's death, so I stay as punishment. I look for him among the zombies, so that I may end his misery, and after my own. I don't deserve to move on, nor any more than the company that chooses to stay in the city with me.’

“I am looking.” That's all Hanzo could muster to reply.

Mccree hums, think to himself, but says nothing more about it. Both exit the area as fast as they could, towards higher ground, and sit atop the roof. 

Somehow, along the way, Yori regroups, a hare in her mouth as she gnaws at it.

They sit in silence for a while, unsure as what to say to one another, and too awkward to look towards one another. 

Mccree takes the time to check over his revolver, which recently had added a silencer too since he’d be around more zombies than usual. It took off a bit of the charm of his beloved weapon, but it was necessary so it didn't bother him that much.

Hanzo felt weary at first when Jesse began to fiddle with his gun, and in turn, began to fiddle with his bow. He soon came to the conclusion that if Mccree really wanted to hurt him, he’d of done so a long while ago. Hanzo still kept an eye out, however, the quiet whisper in the back of his mind still telling him not to trust.

The silence ate at Hanzo, it clawed at him and made him nervous. He had usually enjoyed it, but with another living being around he craved human things. He craved conversation, he craved contact, not that he’d admit that either. Even before the crumble of humanity, Hanzo had never been much to talk or touch anyone, let alone trust. Genji was the only one Hanzo had felt comfortable talking to, that allowed contact with other than when sparing. 

Yet nowhere sat Hanzo, craving contact of another living breathing being, craved to conversate, yet he could not find the words to say anything, or bring his hand to do anything but touch his bow and clean his arrows. 

Yori seemed to feel the weight of Hanzo’s thought again, and groaned, nudging Hanzo with her muzzle unto his leg. Hanzo smiled and gave a soft sigh, petting Yori atop of her head, ‘but of course, I cannot forget all you’ve done for me,’ he thought to himself as he looked towards Yori.

“Say, I know you’ve done a lot for me Hanzo, but you don't suppose you’d mind scavenging with me the next few days, do ya? We'd make a mighty team, and we can split even with supplies,” Mccree said, breaking the tense and heavy silence that filled the rooftop.

Hanzo looked up with curious eyes. He was capable of doing things on his own, in fact, him standing here alive testament to it. Why his help? Hanzo thought about it. Perhaps he should take the offer, he was running low on his own supplies after all, and it was getting colder by the night.

“I...would not mind,” he replied, slightly hesitant but firmly.

Mccree let out a low, smooth chuckle, “Hey, who knows, I think we might work well enough, an archer and gunslinger?” 

Hanzo lets out a scoff, but smiles, “perhaps so, we’ll work oddly enough.”


	5. Pray for the Prey

“Hey Hanzo, watch my six for me would ya?” Mccree whispers quietly towards Hanzo, who merely nods in response. 

Mccree jumps the counter of the small pharmacy store that they have begun to raid, his revolver in hand as he looks to his sides before going through several prescriptions, stuffing what was left into his bag.

As he stood up and turned around, he nearly let out a small yelp in surprise when Hanzo seemed to have materialized into thin air behind him. 

“Jesus Hanzo you damn near gave me a heart attack, ya walk like a damn stalking cat!” Mccree whispers to Hanzo, holding a hand over his chest.

Hanzo’s lip slightly turns upwards into a small, barely noticeable smirk and replies quietly, “One could say I've had plenty of practice.” 

Mccree smiled back towards Hanzo with a ‘hmp,’ shaking his head playfully before walking towards the next stall to raid, Hanzo following behind him.

The two make their way back over the counter in the empty corner store, Hanzo following somewhat absent-mindedly, deep in thought. 

He had to admit to himself that he enjoyed the company of Mccree. He was optimistic all while being realistic, he held a charismatic character and does without hesitation, and had always found something to smile about. He was the complete opposite of himself a reserved, cold, cautious, and pessimistic in nature.

It was an invited change at first, being around another for some time might be able to finally bring some light into his miserable and mundane life. But then Hanzo began to think deeper into the void of his mind. 

Mccree wasn’t going to stay, when he was done scavenging, they’d go their separate ways. He could spare himself the hurt of having to see another friendly face fade away into a blur, or worse, have it reappear in rotting flesh and hungry eyes and bloodied mouth that he’d have to shoot down. He could spare himself the hurt of more self-hatred and repeat of Genji.

After several days, Hanzo decided to pull himself back together, and not to forget that in one way or another, this small happiness was going to end and end for good. 

And Hanzo yet again had to admit to himself, it was hard not to smile around Mccree. It was hard not to engage in conversation with him or even say some witty remark. He’d already said one today, and Hanzo hadn’t even realized it until now. He’s tried to distance himself, despite already agreeing to help the cowboy in the first place. He wished he refused then, that he thought ahead of time of the possible harm he could cause himself. 

Mccree glanced at Hanzo, who looked too deep into his own thought to notice. Mccree lips purse slightly and brows knit together. He noticed how Hanzo seemed to be drawing back from him. He wondered if he was becoming too much a hassle at first but quickly dismissed it. Hanzo had been acting normal until a few days ago, and he looked as if he’d been fighting back smiles, tightening his lips and looking away. He avoided looking Mccree in the eyes, distances himself on purpose, what had been going on inside Hanzo’s mind the past few days, Mccree began to wonder. ‘Well not just ask ‘em,’ he thought to himself. As Mccree and Hanzo exit the small corner store pharmacy, he stopped to look back at Hanzo, who absently mindedly bumped into him.

 

Hanzo scowled as he looked up at Mccree, "why have we stopped? Is something the matter?" 

Mccree rose a brow, "Hey now ain't no need to get all angry with me, partner. Listen, I've been a little worried about what's been going on the past few days, Hanzo. You've been acting real strange, and I don't know if it's caused I pissed you off or I did something stupid but- DUCK," Mccree shouts before he can finish. 

Hanzo does so quickly, several bullets firing off above him. When Hanzo looks up, he sees several undead now laying and unmoving on the floor below. Hanzo looks ahead only to see several more, drawing his bow and releasing arrows in the direction. 

"Fuck, outta all the time now they wanna swarm us," Mccree says with a growl in frustration. The two men begin to hustle along, Mccree takes aim to the head of every zombie, not being able to afford to waste the bullets so carelessly. 

Hanzo began to hear growls and shuffling feet. he quickly pivots and shoots the runners behind them with ease, only to reveal that there were more runners behind and behind them an entire horde. 

"Mccree, move it, run!" he yells aloud before the two men begin to dead sprint ahead, only to be faced with more angry undead runners and the horde groaning behind them. the shooting had become useless at this point, their thoughts had moved to one thought alone, only run and live. 

Hanzo whistles to call his companion, but Yori gave no response, nor appeared. Hanzo's gut began to fill with a deeper dread. He couldn’t afford to dwell on it too long, he could only run and followed the living man ahead beside him. 

they began to reach the edge of the city, Hanzo could see the rolling hills the open road ahead of him. He was not supposed to leave the city, not ever. Genji didn't, so why should he? 

Hanzo's thoughts were cut short when Jesse stopped to turn around, shooting several of the runners that had been on their heels the entire run down. He hadn't even heard their steps so close to their owns, nor the growls and hisses. He was only focused on his mind and what was ahead of them.

Mccree let out another whistle, loud and with force, almost as if summoning all the air left in his lungs out. 

Silence filled the open wind between the two other than the groans of the oncoming horde, and the animalistic noises of runners trying to break through the large crowd with eagerness, and then the patter of the runners who had gotten through. 

Suddenly, almost as if too hopefully, too lucky, a stallion with a pelt so gold the sun would be envious, and mane so dark the night would be jealous, ran towards the two men, and Mccree began to run towards it.

"Hanzo!" Mccree shouts as he shoots several more bullets behind the man. Finally, Hanzo seems to break out of his trance. 

Hanzo looked towards the man, and back at the city, he's stuck frozen in his own moral dilemma. He couldn't leave the city, no, not with Genji in it. But for once, whether it be instinct or renewal self-preservation, Hanzo did not want to die, but did he truly deserve to live?

Mccree growled to himself, teeth gritting. He was too angry, too scared, too impatient.

He hopped up top Buckeye's back, guiding the stallion by the mane's withers, "Hey-aw!" he cried loudly as he raced towards Hanzo.

Hanzo turned at the sudden loud cry, and before Hanzo had time to choose, Hanzo was being hoisted up the stallion, and the two were breaking for the rolling hills and away for the city. 

Hanzo clutched Mccree's scrape, doing his best to stay pressed onto the only anchor he had on the horse. He'd never rode bareback. 

Soon they had slowed to a trot, and then a walk. the horse snorted and huffed, the extra weight and the push to run away from the threat had worked the horse, yet he stood strong beyond it all and continued to walk. 

Everything around Hanzo had felt numb, cold and distant, but as he laid his head upon Mccree’s back, feeling the warmth behind the scrape and the rise and fall of his chest, Hanzo began to feel a warmth grow inside him once again. 

Mccree was warm, and the events of the day had all but drained Hanzo’s body and mind. As he swayed on the back of the horse, Hanzo’s eyes began to flutter, he had not slept in several nights, tossing and turning, staring into cement and rubbled rooftops. He felt comfortable around Mccree, that he couldn’t deny. But his nightmares and reminiscing of his past deeds did not help his situation of sleep. 

Mccree said nothing, he too was drained. He hasn’t run like that in ages, not with another person, not since his time with Reyes. But he couldn’t sleep, no not when the dead could still be following. He’d rest once he felt that they were safe. Still, Mccree couldn’t help but feel guilty. He’d forced this man onto his horse, leaving behind whatever had made Hanzo hesitate to come along, leaving behind Yori. He’d only pray to a god he hoped was listening that the dog was safe.

 

Hanzo awoke with a jolt, confused and disoriented as he felt the earth beneath him and grass at his fingertips. He looked up, it was dark, and the moon was shining brightly in the sky above. It had to be midnight at the least. How long had he been asleep? A chill brushed past Hanzo's face, it was then he noticed he was bundled up in Mccree's scrape.

he looked around, and there Mccree was, brushing down the stallion. "you're finally awake, wasn't sure you'd do that," Mccree said, trying to smile but it had felt forced and dry.

Hanzo glared at the cowboy, pushing away the scrape, "where are we?" he demanded, he clenched his jaw waiting for an answer.

"away from the city," was all he replied, blunt but distant.

Hanzo snarled, "how far?" he demanded, getting up and off the ground, his body was tense and his eyes dug knives. Mccree was beginning to wonder how bad he had fucked up.

"far enough to be alive," he shot back, his voice rising. Mccree was beginning to feel a fire fuming in him. He swallowed hard, trying to push it down. 

Hanzo smiled, but not out of happiness. His smile was a mixed grimace, behind it was emotions Hanzo couldn't begin to describe. It felt like a tornado that had fused with a lightning storm, wrecking and charing everything it touched. 

"Far enough to be alive, Mccree? We live in this hell touched place, if we can even call it living. what if I had not wanted to be alive, Jesse? what if I did not deserve the honor to be alive?" he growled lowly as he took a step towards Mccree.

Jesse Mccree took a step forward towards Hanzo, his shoulders taut and squared, "Well fuck Hanzo how was I supposed to know you wanted to die so bad?! Cause you sure as hell looked scared, ya sure as hell didn't act or look like you wanted to fucking die!" 

Hanzo didn't reply, his nose flared and his cold gaze held strong. The night was suddenly not so cold. 

"I've been alive long enough to know when a man's ready to die, I've seen men ready to sacrifice themselves to save the others he cared about, and you're goin' come around here tell me you wanted to be ripped to shreds and eaten?! What the fuck is in that city that you'd want to fucking kill yourself over Hanzo?!"

 

"I killed my brother in there!" Hanzo bellowed, his eyes beginning to glass over as he blinked them away angrily, " I had him in my hands, and I dropped him. I left him to his fate, I let him die the worst death this world had to offer! I cannot leave that city alive knowing my brother is still there, among the dead, and not at rest. I can't leave the city alive without finding him, and ending him, only then can I let myself rest!" 

Mccree looked on at Hanzo with wide eyes, the air was tense and full of dread, but at that moment the taut in his shoulders ceased, guilt now sitting in his heart rather than the rage before. 

Hanzo shook to his core, eyes widening to what he had just admitted to the man before him. He swallowed hard, and turned away, turning back to look at the fire. He wished now more than ever he could have Yori by his side as his comfort. But even then, he didn’t know if she too was dead or alive, torn apart by the undead as Genji had. 

 

Mccree laid a hand atop of Hanzo’s shoulder, and Hanzo couldn’t help but tense and shudder. 

“I’m...sorry to hear that…,” Mccree began somewhat awkward in his introduction, “ This life we’re livin’ in ain’t easy. I didn’t mean to attack ya like that Hanzo…” 

Hanzo finally eases, but his eyes were still glued to the small fire in front of him, he still didn’t have the courage to face Mccree despite his soft words, “ I...must apologies as well. You saved my life, and yet all I had returned was distressed rage…” 

Hanzo finally forced himself to look up to the Mccree, and was met with a soft, faint remorseful smile, “We pray for the prey, commonly said among the folks who live our lives among us.” 

Hanzo nods as he looks back into the fire, a hoarse soft chuckle escaping his lips, “Genji found it an amusing saying…” 

Mccree froze, looking over Hanzo’s face with a curious glance, “Genji, as in, Genji Shimada?”

Hanzo turns to face the cowboy, face scrunched confusion and suspicion, “Yes, we were Shimada, what did you know of us?” Hanzo asks, looking at the man in the eye with a steady hard gaze.

Mccree began feeling the heat and the pressure of Hanzo’s eyes. He leans back and rubs the back of his neck and avoids Hanzo’s gaze, “I uh, we’re really good friends...He’s lookin’ for you, and uh well...He isn’t exactly dead,” 

“What do you mean he isn’t dead?! I watched him die with my own eyes, I heard his screams with my own ears!” Hanzo bellowed again, the rage from before returning. 

“I mean he survived it Hanzo, he didn’t turn like most folks! He’s some kinda...mystery, he was with us in the Overwatch hospital camp before...” he yelled back, raising his hands in defense before dropping them at the painful memories of Reyes. 

Tonight wasn’t going to be a long one, among long explanations.


	6. To Remember and Never Forget

They had survived the worst of it, both its rise and climax. When the first breakout had first happened, they had wisely listened to their father rather than the news-woman of the area to stay indoors until further notice, rather than seek the shelters where one could get checked and cleared to leave. 

The chaos outside had proved otherwise.

Genji and Hanzo had pushed all heavy furniture in front of the door just as their father had told them to do. Sojiro promised to call his sons back on further updates, but they would never hear from their father again. The lines were clogged and soon were completely down. 

They were in the states to discuss business among certain associates on their father's behalf. Hanzo has seen his father done it plenty times before, nor was it his first time going on his father’s behalf, if anything this was for Genji to learn, to sway him, to convince him.

Sojiro had seen an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. He wanted his two sons to grow an empire together because where one lacked the other excelled in. Where Genji could not see and plan out details fast or well enough Hanzo would pick up that lack. Where Hanzo was too serious and too stiff for some business Genji had a natural charisma. 

But like any siblings, they bicker and often fought one moment and the next smiling and nudging one another. But he wanted his sons to grow closer, to respect one another and grow together. So he had sent his sons together. 

Hanzo knew this, he didn’t need to be told this to understand what his father wanted. And deep down, Hanzo wanted this too. He wanted Genji beside him, as much as a pain in the ass he could be he saw the potential, he saw someone he could always trust. 

But Genji was not so sure if this was his path to be. He’d talk of many crazy careers he’d want to do, and although Hanzo nor Sojiro did not encourage it, they both had the plan in mind to have Genji be apart of their empire. However, Genji was the free sparrow, not technically bound by duty, unlike Hanzo who felt duty bound to continue the family legacy. Genji was very much like the free spirit of his mother, and Hanzo wondered if this was why Sojiro would be so lenient and soft with his younger brother.

But none of that mattered then. They stood quietly huddled close to one another, trying to sleep and block out the tumults that roared outside, muffled merely by windows, curtains, and walls. 

After a week, it had finally quieted down, deathly quiet. Their food had begun to dwindle to the point it only lasts them several more days, at best. They would have to face the madness soon. 

The TV had shown only a small part before they too had gone off the air. People had gone rabid. They became unintelligible of what they were before, everyone around them was now considered prey, everyone was fair game as they growled and tackled and tore into the people on the streets. 

Only then after, those killed would rise as well, and have the same behavior as the one who attacked it. They were undead, zombies. 

Genji had been uncharacteristically and frightfully quiet for the first few days, which had only added to Hanzo’s distress of the situation. After so, he had become forcefully cheery. Hanzo could see the forced smiles and laughs, he knew it was only to comfort him. He never told Genji how much he had needed it, he supposed he didn’t need too, as Hanzo visibly eased.

Then it was time to leave the room. They couldn’t stay in there forever, and it wasn’t like the two were unarmed, but they weren’t prepared for what was to come ahead of them. How much the world had changed in the little time they had been sealed off. 

Hanzo remembered thinking then that, perhaps starving to death was much more merciful than being chased and eaten alive. At least they’d be dead for good, and no harm to those who decided to live. 

That same day when they left safety they raided a store. Hanzo remembered that day well, it was one in a few moments he felt truly happy, especially with Genji around who, even in depths of hell they were in, found things to muse about and kept the air light. 

“I always knew you were truly a hipster at heart behind that businessman,” Genji would tease. Hanzo would merely smile and roll his eyes in response, but even then, Hanzo had admitted to himself that his brother’s banter was welcomed for once.

With Genji, he felt everything would be alright, and the same had been in reverse. Genji had teased that father would be proud of how well they had been connecting and that it only took an apocalypse to bring them closer together as brothers should be.

Hanzo could still dryly muse about it now as he thought about it. 

Over the next seven years Hanzo and Genji would have their scuffles, but ultimately they would never leave it be as such. They only had each other in this world they lived in now, be apart from the other was death unlike any other. 

Hanzo thought himself a dead man for the past eight years, a ghost simply wondering until it’s ultimate goal had been accomplished.

Had it been that long already since the passing of Genji? The memory felt so raw as it was as if it had happened the week before.

And yet here, a stranger he had met just over a week had told him that his brother was alive. Or in his words, ‘somewhat alive’. 

Being any form of ‘alive’ would surprise Hanzo regardless. He had watched his brother fall, he had heard his cries before finally turning around and walking on to live another day, while his brother had faced a fate worse than starvation, torture, and hell combined.

Things had grown unsettlingly tense as time gone by. Hanzo did not know why, but he began to feel suffocated. The city wall around him felt as if they were closing on in him, the constant horde always surrounding them. But what could he do? He couldn’t leave. Why should he? What reason was there too? It was safe here, it was familiar. He’d been here since the start of it all.

Still, Hanzo wanted space, he needed to be somewhere, alone, and to breath.

Hanzo had begun to distance himself, and Genji was beginning to realize it. Hanzo wondered if that was why perhaps Genji had reacted so, perhaps he feared the disconnect with his brother so much, it was what had pushed Genji to be so overly attention-seeking.

“Hanzo, do you remember the time when we had pranked father? Put salt in his tea? Haha! Father said that I had mother’s rebellious spirit, but I had learned from you,” Genji said wrapping an arm around Hanzo. Hanzo tensed. 

 

Had Genji been talking that entire time? He’d been lost in his thoughts then, all he could remember before then was muteness. 

“Hanzo?” He called, but Hanzo did not answer. He felt sick in his stomach. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt sick and pain began to pound in his head.

Reflecting on it, that week Genji seemed to have found more excuses to touch him more. Hugs, little wrestles, training, or merely holding hands in comfort. He couldn’t blame his brother, their world was lonely, it was lonely and it was cold. 

Genji had always been affectionate, once in a time when they had been small boys, he’d bring home injured sparrows and small wildlife and beg their father to let him help it. He’d sit in their father’s lap as he told them stories of great dragon brothers, or sit and mother company while she lay sick in her bed. Genji would even sneak into his bed just because he felt cold and lonely. 

However, times had changed greatly, you trusted in few people because trusting too many would lead to betrayal or death in those you cared for. So Hanzo kept their world with just them. They’d occasionally run into survivors, of which Genji would be ecstatic to talk and interact with, but Hanzo had always refused an invitation to join the strangers.

Hanzo had thought that if it were only them, he wouldn’t have to worry about heartbreak or grief. It was apparent now that, death did not care how many or how few you held close, it would take as it pleased, whoever it pleased.

“Hanzo!” Genji had called again, stopping both in their tracks. Genji rested both his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders, “brother why have you been so distant? Each day that passes I’ve been growing more concerned for you, brother.” 

Hanzo did not turn to face his brother. The pain in his head had begun to pound harder.

“Hanzo look at me! Speak to me damn it you’re acting like one of the dead!” Genji flared.

“What do you want me to say? How can I even talk when all you do is continue to ramble and flail around like some excited pup!?” Hanzo snapped back.

“Well, who else am I to fucking bother, Hanzo? You push away everyone, always insisting that ‘it for our good, Genji, it’s so we can live, Genji,’,” He mocked.

“It is for our good! Tell me if every person we’ve met became our friend, how many do you think have already died, Genji?! How many times have we passed by the same people twice living?! I do it for us Genji!” Hanzo said, pushing back his brother. He wished he had a better hold on his temper then, perhaps they’d still be alive if he had.

“ You do it for you! We’re going to face losses Hanzo, I’ve come to terms with that long ago, I’ve dealt with it since mother’s death! You’ve yet to learn to cope with death, Hanzo! You distance us for your sake, not mine!” Genji growled, taking a step forward towards Hanzo, “You’re always trying to protect me, Hanzo, but we are no longer boys!” 

 

“Fine, if I’m holding you back so much why don’t you fuck off and join some random group then, Genji! Leave!” Hanzo finally snapped.

Genji seemed struck, he stood there with a mixed look of pain and surprised before running off without another word, throwing his Katana down in a fit. 

Hanzo only sighed and picked up the katana before chasing after his brother. What had he done? Of course, they were both in a fit of anger, but Hanzo hadn't truly meant it. As Much as Genji infuriated him, he loved him.

Hanzo had been looking for an hour, and his stomach began to turn and flip into a pit of dread. It was Genji who had found him, he had bumped into him with a face pale and scared, a cold sweat drenched him, “run,” was all Genji had whispered before the two began dashing away. He didn’t need to ask why the growls and screeches of the zombies close behind had answered why. They had scaled the wall closes to them for advantage against the runners who sought to make them a meal.

Hanzo had always been more sure-footed than Genji had been, and whether it was the rush wearing down as they ran and tired, or Genji had slipped on some rubble on the wall, Hanzo couldn’t recall. 

However, Hanzo could recall Genji bumping into him and slipping. 

Hanzo had barely reacted quick enough to catch Genji, nearly falling himself but caught himself on the edge of the tall wall.

 

Hanzo couldn’t hear anything, He could only see his brother’s scared pale face, eyes wide and a cold sweat falling from his face. His lips were moving, but Hanzo could hear nothing, the world had gone still and quiet once again. 

Genji suddenly gave Hanzo a somber smile, It confused him at the moment. Genji had said something again, and again he couldn’t hear it. He didn’t even notice his grip loosening on the wall he was clinging onto. 

One moment Genji had been clutched in his hand, and the next he was free falling on the ground below. 

Hanzo remembers calling his name out, But Genji heeded no attention as he tried to make a dash for it. 

He watched Genji get tackled by several runners around a corner. And the next, he heard his brother’s agonizing screams. 

Sound had returned to Hanzo then, and time had unfrozen. Tears scaled down his face, warm and salty on his lips in the cold. Genji had only the smaller blade to protect himself against the many runners who had chased and tackled him. 

He had held onto Genji’s katana. 

A runner had looked up, blood smeared on his face, towards Hanzo, and Hanzo had startled and ran back on the wall. 

Hanzo wished that he too had fallen, and then perhaps he could share the fate of his brother as well as a means or redemption, but then he had been all too afraid of death. 

Now, he longed for it while also avoiding it. 

He spent several years in a deep depression and dwelling, blaming himself for the event, then more than ever he wished for Genji to bother him, pester him, anything. Hanzo was lonely.

it was Yori who had kept him sane for as long as he had been if he could even consider himself such.

She had never truly left his side since he had found and rescued her as a pup, and she proved to return the favor several times as well. 

But even now, he did not know the fate of his beloved companion, if she had escaped or had suffered the same fate he thought his brother had. 

Hanzo and Mccree have spent the past hour in silence and reminiscing. There was no way Genji could have survived. He was tackled, chased, tore apart. He heard the screams of his brother. 

But here, now, Mccree had claimed he was alive. That he had been searching for him in the past few years. Was it for revenge? Revenge for leaving him behind? If so, Hanzo would welcome it. He felt he would deserve any resentment or treatment his brother would give him.

“He doesn't hate you, ya know. At the start when we found him maybe a little, but he often spoke fondly of ya..” Mccree had said shattering Hanzo’s thoughts. As if he knew what he was dwelling on. 

Hanzo did no reply. He continued to stare into the flames.

“I could...I could take you to see him if you want. Ain't a promise he’ll be there but he does visit the hospital often and-” Mccree started and was interrupted. 

“And how do I know this isn't some cruel joke?” Hanzo spat bitterly.

“I can prove it to you. I will if you come with me. It might sound like a stretch, I know. Hell, I’ll bring him to you if I have to if you don't die first.” Mccree stretched his hand to Hanzo, and Hanzo watched it wearily. 

He had no reason to believe this man. This could very well have been a trap, a ruse the entire time to lure Hanzo out and do who knows what. 

But there were plenty of chances before where Hanzo could have been betrayed, beaten, or kidnapped. Mccree’s smile and voice were like a spell, one that could calm you, persuade you, charm you…

It wasn't like he cared much of his own safety anymore. What would he have to lose, should he find out it was not Genji, or that it was indeed a trap. 

He’d either return or be killed anyway.

He took Mccree’s hand. He spoke no words, there was nothing needing to be said between them. It was a silent contact of sorts, having each other’s back until the goal of Genji being found, or until one or the either have died. 

The rest of that night had been quiet. They set up camp, put out the fire, and slept. Mccree had told Hanzo that Buckeye would alert them should anything choose to come near. It made sense, he supposed, horses were naturally weary creature even in sleep.

Once again Hanzo found himself in another sleepless night. Thinking of Genji had brought dreams of Genji.

they were in the middle of the woods, the time perhaps around dusk as it was dark but so dark were Hanzo couldn’t see the things and make out small details. A breeze shook Hanzo, soft but ice cold. 

On the other side Was Genji, his back turned and still as a corpse. It was Genji’s voice that had told him to step forward, like a whisper in the wind, disembodied, and Hanzo would do so. 

“Closer,” the voice said again, it sounded as if he was just at his ear, and he could feel an icy breath at his neck and the hairs of his neck standing. Hanzo would take another step closer.

The wind was growing more violent, the leaves at his feet sweeping the ground in little tornados of wind, and the trees crying out in an angry whisper the closer to Genji Hanzo got.

Soon he was at arm's length from Genji, It was then he noticed how pale and grey his skin looked, how torn his clothes were and how ruffled his hair was. 

Hanzo knew what was coming next, he’s had dreams like this plenty of times before, and yet he could not help himself but reach out for his brother. 

The wind died immediately as Hanzo laid a hand on Genji’s shoulder hesitantly, and the woods became dead silent.

He turned his brother to face him. Every time he’s done so in his dream, Genji had always looked different, his face would be torn in different areas than before, the dried blood on his clothes would be elsewhere as if his mind were making every possibility of how Genji was torn into and gored on, how his brother may have suffered.

This time Genji was missing skin and an eye in his upper left face. His face was covered in scratches, his skin was a pale grey and his remaining eye had glossed over and pupils practically nonexistent. His face was slightly more hollow, and his teeth were bared and yellow and black. There lied a big hole in his chest and his stomach had been torn into, it was clear that Genji was missing several organs as he could practically look into him, as even the bones in his chest had been broken into and caved in. Scratches covered his arm and chunks of meat were even missing from it.

Genji snarled and gave guttural growls as he stared Hanzo in the face. Then Genji would speak, his voice chilling Hanzo to the bone as Genji would heave out quietly at first, “you...left...me…”

Hanzo could no reply, he could not even move. He was frozen in place as the pit of his stomach dropped endlessly and Hanzo found it hard to even swallow. He didn’t even notice he was shaking. 

“You left...me...YOU LEFT ME HANZO, YOU LEFT ME TO DIE, YOU LEFT ME TO DIE HANZO YOU LEFT ME YOU LEFT ME YOU LEFT ME!” Genji said gradually getting louder and louder till he was shrilling it at the top of whatever lungs were left in him. 

“I left you…” Hanzo would reply quietly after. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes as he stared his brother in his dead eyes, choking back a sob.

Genji would look at him, his face expressing no emotions of hate and anger before. Genji then smiled, a sad and remorseful smile it seemed, “yes...you left me, Hanzo. I trusted you. I loved you, brother. And you left me still, you left me to die, alone, in agony, in fear.” Genji would say, and the two would stare at one another, right before Genji was tacking Hanzo onto the ground, tearing in at him and-

Hanzo woke up with wet cheeks and heaving, he had shot up and was now clutching his chest with one hand and another on his stomach. 

Beside him, Yuri stood whining and wagging her tail, almost waiting for permission to continue her approach. He then realized that his cheeks were no wet from tears, though perhaps they were before, but from Yori.

Hanzo grabbed Yori and clutched her as if she were a lifeline, and Yori gladly returned the affection with plenty of kisses and a tail wagging uncontrollably. 

Yes, this was Yori, but how? Had she escaped the horde and runners? If so, how had she found her? They must have been at least several miles away from the city.

“She’d been trailing us I think, probably found another route out around the undead, probably couldn’t howl back without bein’ caught. Ya got a smart companion there,” Mccree’s voice broke through the silent air. 

Hanzo ran his hands through her thick pelt, he vaguely wondered if Mccree had seen him having a nightmare if Hanzo reacted to it at all. “...It is reassuring to know she had lived after all…” he replied quietly after a while.

“Can’t say I didn’t think she didn’t make it out either, was beginning to feel a bit guilty till she came trotting into our camp like nothing happened,” Mccree said with a small smile on his face as he brushed Buckeye down.

Hanzo sighed, but behind that sigh of annoyance and the large wolf-dog, Hanzo smiled a little. It appeared to him that Mccree was trying to ease things over from the night before. Hanzo appreciated it, it would make travel less tense after all. Perhaps even less lonely. 

His small smile soon faded, however, at remembering what the end goal of all this was. If they were to reach the goal, Hanzo will have to face Genji once again, not in just his dreams but in the waking world. 

Hanzo was beginning to wonder if he was cursed to remember and never forget the actions he regretted most.


	7. East

They had been traveling together for 3 days now, they had passed them by quickly with tension now lowering every day Hanzo and Mccree talked to one another. Hanzo still found it hard to say much, but it seemed to be fine as Mccree was more than happy to fill the void of silence with the stories of his adventures, from lassoing a zombie to help a woman named Moria study them, from heartfelt stories of his adoptive family, as Mccree would call them. 

Hanzo could see the warmth in his eyes as he fondly talked of them, and every day they traveled closer he seemed almost to be containing his excitement. As Mccree spoke fondly of his family, Hanzo paid close attention, one part from curiosity and the other part to prepare himself.

From what he could gather, Moria and Angela were doctors and scientists, Angela being more kind yet the maternal figure of the group and more into aiding the living, and Moria being much shadier and secretive, yet valued and loved, even if she was, ‘the scary aunt’ in Mccree’s words. 

Bastion was a mute man, quiet but seemingly optimistic, the only noise he’d truly do was whistling. Bastion had come in with Reinhardt, Brigitte, and Torbjorn while they were on a supply run, a close family nit group according to him, and It turned out although more timid and bashful, Bastion happens to be exceeding well with guns. Bastion soon came to join that family, although reluctant at first Torbjorn came to see the young man a son. Mccree smiled bitter-sweetly as he chuckled saying it probably had something to do with Bridgette's influence. 

Then there was an odd pair, Mako and Jamison. Apparently, they had headed to American to enter some odd constant with outrageous missions that supposed to air on T.V, them having apparently being youtube famous for their crazy antics. However, those plans had gone below south, but their wacky and odd inventions and tactics came in handy when setting up defenses against the undead, not to mention that they had nearly unlimited test subjects with the dead not exactly alive for it to be unethical. It was during one of their ‘testing sessions’ that they had accidentally saved Mei, a shy but sweet Chinese lady, and much to Moria and Angela’s delight in the field of sciences.

Then there was the Fareeha and Ana, a mother and daughter who'd come in together after Ana’s husband sacrifice his life so they'd live on. Ana was a master with the sniper and a decent enough medic that Angela would often consult to Ana if Moria was too busy or out with a patrol. Fareeha was like a little sister to Mccree, and Ana a surrogate mother. The two were sturdy people, and despite the loss they faced were the pillars in the odd family community they were. Hanzo could see the admiration in his eyes as he talked fondly of them. 

However the admiration slow began to drain from Mccree’s eyes and was replaced with a bittersweet tone in his voice and a slight grimace in his eyes. There was a hesitance before he began speaking as if debating whether or not it was worth telling.

Mccree finally took a deep sigh before clearing his throat, “Then there is Jack, he’s a little rough around the edges ever since...well since my adoptive dad Gabe died. They were the dad’s of the group, we always called Gabe the fun dad, but that’s not to say Gabe couldn’t parent,” he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “He helped me and Genji settle in. He’s had a rough time, wherever he came from. He can see it in his eyes, and sometimes we caught him with a stare so dead it rivaled the undead. But Gabe did his best to try to push that aside for us all, stern when he needed to be and a goof-off when not. Whatever he’d been through, he found a lot of comfort being a father figure of our family, and especially in Jack. 

Jack, he’s gone through something pretty bad too, only it wasn’t much a secret. Gabe told me, after an especially bad fight with Jack and I, I stuck a cord I didn’t even know existed, they’d apparently been in the military together then. Jack had a husband when he was a younger man. He was in the military, and when this whole thing started, Jack said fuck duty and ran himself home but was all too late...had to put out his husband himself. Jack’s never really all the same since, got sterner and more protective of everyone, especially of Hana, his adoptive daughter. I liked having some freedom though, and so we budded heads a lot. Jack’s a good guy though, just really stern and unintentionally a big ass too.” He paused for a moment. Hanzo had been quietly listening, letting the somber man talk of this mixed and matched family. 

The silence began to eat at Hanzo for a bit, as a solid realization returned to him. He was going to meet these people, and it seemed to be a great many of them. It was slightly intimidating, only slightly because what was more intimidating to Hanzo was facing Genji again, should all this be real that is. It felt all too detailed and Mccree had talked so passionately, yet so far fetched that all these people had found together. 

It was then that Hanzo realized that the air around his was all still and quiet, and Mccree’s hand was by where his modified six-shooter rested in his holster. Hanzo pulled himself from his thoughts and touched his bow from the side of the horse, Yori sniffed the air, eyeing the woods before them. Quietly, he whispered, “ what is it?”

“We have patrols ‘round this time...it’s too quiet, even the birds ain’t singing. Something is wrong,” Mccree said.

Mccree and Hanzo dismounted and walked ahead quietly, Hanzo quietly spoke “stay,” to the ashen gray wolfdog who groaned in reply. The closer towards the first supposed ‘checkpoint’ they got, the groans and guttural sounds of the undead became more clear.

“Ain’t many of them,” Mccree said as they both pinned themselves against the trees, “we can take em’ out easy, but this ain’t normal…” Mccree started, “we have patrols around the hospital, just for this, something ain’t right...” 

Hanzo could see the worry Mccree tried to hide in his eyes and replace with concentration and determination, “Then suppose we do your people a favor, with how many and how skilled you described them I am sure they are fine,” Hanzo whispered softly.

Both nodded and stepped out and into the open in an odd sync, and fired their weapons onto the small crowd of undead. As soon as it happened, it was over, and the bodies lied unmoving in the ground.

It had taken Hanzo by a slight surprise to see Mccree rush over all of the sudden. He grabbed and turned the bodies over, and his shoulders had sunken relief. Hanzo stood silently behind, unmoving but thinking, he had done the same for so long while looking for Genji, had this behavior of his companions really be so odd that he’d worried they turned?

Mccree stood back up and cleared his throat, “we ain’t too far from the camp, we can rest there for the night.” 

Hanzo quietly nodded, unsure of what words he could gather to respond otherwise. He walked over and plucked the arrows from the rotting heads of the undead, grimacing at the dark blood that dripped from the tips. He whipped them in the air towards the ground to get the excess blood off of then, following behind Mccree.

Mccree couldn't shake off the horrible feeling he felt in his gut, like free-falling after a big Thanksgiving dinner. He swallowed hard as he approached the hospital walls. No one was at wall duty, no one came down to greet. 

Hanzo looked up at the towering walls and iron gates, it looked more like a prison from the outside. However the off-white building with many windows and bold words 'Overwatch Hospital Center’ that could just be seen over the wall from the hill they stood at. They continue to approach the wall, and Mccree looked tenser by every step.

“The gates and walls are still up and locked at least… forgot the code though, shit,” he murmured above a whisper. He turned to look at Hanzo, “I'll boost you up and you can help me over? There should be a rope laying around up there somewhere.” 

Hanzo over gave a small smirk, his words were laced with the smallest hint of playfulness, “what makes you think I can lift you over the wall?”

Mccree felt slightly off guard, but smiled and smirked, “ well you sure did hell of a job lifting a dangling man up onto a balcony.” Mcree had thought to himself, Hanzo had a weird way of attempting to comfort someone, for a serious man he still had humor.

Hanzo rolled his eyes and stepped up towards Mccree. Mcree bent down, and as Hanzo placed his foot in his hands Mccree gave a strong boost upwards.

Hanzo scaled the wall from there with ease. The wall was thick enough for walking on, if anything seemed as though that was the purpose of it. Sure enough, sitting on the other edge of the wall was a box with rope and other miscellaneous items of cards, an empty pack of cigarettes, and empty clips. Hanzo grabbed the rope, tossing it down towards Mccree.

Mccree grabbed ahold of the rope firmly, and put a firm foot on the wall and began making his way up it. He looked up at Hanzo, who held the rope firmly, and couldn't help but admire him as he stood above. He'd taken off his jacket and wrapped it around his waist, and his shirt clung to his body tightly, and his muscles tightened with the strain of the rope he held. Some of his long ebony hair had fallen from his bun and framed his face beautifully. His stormy eyes pierced his own, and Mccree knew that Hanzo was admiring the view below him as well. 

At the final few steps left Hanzo offered Mccree his hand up, of which Mccree seemingly had gladly took with a firm grasp. Hanzo hoisted Mccree up with a force that caused him to stumble slightly backward. However, Hanzo was pulled forward suddenly and he collided into a solid, warm chest. His nostrils were immediately assaulted with the smells of black coffee, fresh earth, pine, and cigar smoke.

“You alright there bud?” Mccree’s voice broke through, and Hanzo pulled away quickly. A faint blush crept onto Hanzo’s cheeks as he turned to face away Mccree and towards the hospital. Hanzo's rebuttal was replaced with awe for what he saw.

Green and flourishing plants and bursts of colors from the wildflowers that grew freely. And although the building was growing off-white and slightly dirty, the windows were clear as the sky. There was even a small pond, where the water looked just as clean and clear as the windows. The place looked untouched by the chaos that had enveloped their world.

“A real sight compared to the city, huh?” Mccree said with a softer tone, to which Hanzo slowly nodded. “ We made the place a sort of paradise for ourselves, homely and calm. A place to shut out the outside world and live comfortably with each other.” 

“And...this is where Genji spent his years?” Hanzo said, his voice just above a whisper, as if fearful to ask. 

“Yeah... for quite a while he did,” Mccree replied after a pause, Hanzo did not say anything after. 

“The place looks untouched, gonna go ahead and unlock the gate for Buckeye and Yori to come in real quick,” Mccree said, clearing his throat before walking down the ladder on the inner wall. 

The code was written on in a booklet by the door, as Mccree wasn’t the only one to forget it from time to time. He punched in the numbers and it unlocked with a click. Mccree whistled for Buckeye, and sure enough, his friend came cantering in, the ashen canine in tow. 

 

Hanzo felt relieved, yet a pit began to form in his stomach. Genji was not here. Who was to say he was ever here? What if this was still a trap of Mccree’s? The place seemed too good, perhaps there were others hiding inside ready to take Hanzo down, for what he did not know. Hanzo couldn’t help but doubt, he wanted to believe that Mccree was a good person, that he was genuine as he thought, yet something tugged in his, told him not to believe everything or he’d get hurt. 

But why would that matter, didn’t Hanzo want death? Perhaps, but that wasn’t to say he’d go without a fight. Hanzo wasn’t sure what he wanted, he thought he wanted death, but since the smallest hope of Genji, and the oddly charismatic cowboy, it would all seem too lucky, too good. The bottomless pit in his stomach continued to twist and morph, and his thoughts ran ramped. 

“Ready to head in?” Mccree asked, looking back at Hanzo. Hanzo took a deep sigh, and swallowed hard, “yes,” he replied, climbing down the wall. Hanzo entered after Mccree with a high alert.

The glass door shut behind him, and a strong silence fills the room. All that is heard is Mccree’s boots clicking against the tile. The halls were dark with only the emergency lights on, as well as bright red exits. Hanzo followed after Mccree, his eyes looking over everything, and his heart beat out of his chest.

“They’re all gone,” Mccree murmured just above a whisper, a deep sadness laced in his words. “God I hope they’re alright, what happened to em’ all? Why’d they just...leave…” 

Hanzo looked at Mccree, his back was turned towards the hall and his hands nervously and anxiously rubbing his neck. A pang of remorse hit Hanzo, but he couldn’t gather any words of comfort or apology.

Hanzo shifted his gaze over to the desk, where two tape recorders and a note was placed. 

“Mccree, I think they left you a message,” He said, placing a hand over the tape recorder, pressing play. 

“This recording is for Mccree and Genji, we just wanted to let you know of our situation,” Angela’s voice rang through the room, “as you’ve probably noticed by now, the hospital is empty. Please, don’t freak out, we’re not in any danger...hopefully.” 

“Don’t say that you’ll scare them, Angie!” Mei’s voice broke through from the background.

“Well statistically we’ll be in danger most of the time, our only strength is in numbers and whatever weaponry and medication we can store.” Moria chimed in. 

Angela sighs and continues, “ as I was saying, we have more than enough to defend ourselves with, and more than enough people who can handle a weapon,”

“Hey Angela, do you know where- oh, my bad are you doing the recording now?” Lena steps in.

“Yes-” Angela was interrupted once again.

“Hey loves! We're sorry we're leaving without you, I hope you understand! Wait, did you tell them about it yet Angie?” Lena questions.

“Oi, what's all the fuss in here about?” Jamison’s joined, a heavy grunt from Mako behind him.

“Angela’s making a recording for Jesse and Genji!” Lena exclaimed excitedly. 

“Aye! Best of wishes for you mates, ya better not become zombies shish kabobs ya hear!?” Jamison finished with his infamous laughter and a simple deep guttural “yeah” from Mako.

“Everyone please,” Angela pleaded, “I need to speak with them with clarity,” Finally, everyone walks out saying their farewells to Genji and Mccree, leaving only Angela to convey her message. 

“As I was attempting to say, you might be wonder where we may have left too. As you know, there had been rumors of rescue missions being broadcasted on a mysterious station. As it turns out, Winston and Olivia had been able to find this station. The rumors had been surprised us as it comes up to be true. A woman with the name Satya Vaswani owns a private shipping business in several different countries, and just like the rumor, she sends out a broadcast every two months of sending ships to the eastern shores of America. We’ve decided to take the risk to get there, it was voted upon and mostly everyone agreed...we’re hoping you two are still alive and well, and we’ve left this recording to let you know. It...It can be our farewell, but we’re hoping to see you there, or at least in the future on the other side...whichever side that may be. We left you both some of our reserves to take with you on your adventure, medications, food, packs, etc. We left the eastern shore coordinates in your rooms, along with a map... We all miss you, send our best regards and love. Be safe you two.”

A still silence filled the air as the recording ended. Hanzo turned to Mccree, who had wiped his face with his sleeve before clearing his throat. Hanzo spoke up, “it seems your family truly care much for you,” Hanzo spoke softly, “as well as for Genji…” 

 

“Yeah,” Mccree said with a small smile spreading on his lips, “ They can be rambunctious, but they’re family. Genji too...he’s like a brother to me.”

Hanzo nodded, knowing that, at least the brother he knew, would have fit in perfectly with those he heard of, and listened to now. He pressed play on the second recording, and all at once Hanzo shattered yet filled with hope at the sound.

“Yo, Genji Shimada here. I hope you’re doing well, Mccree. I have listened to the recording of Doctor Angela, it’s uh...pretty surprising to be honest. I thought I should send a recording as well, in case you’ve...well, I know you’re alive, and I know you’d come here eventually. But for whatever reason you’ve decided that, perhaps it’s better you stay, don’t do that to yourself. I know you’re a wonder, as am I Mccree, but this place isn’t healthy to stay in, this cycle. I’m going along with some survivors to the east, and I’ll too see you there too, hopefully. until we meet again, Jesse Mccree.” 

Another long silence filled the room before Hanzo swallowed heavily, “ suppose you’ve finally proven yourself true,” He spoke softly. Hanzo’s head ran, but it was all empty. He was thinking, no, he was panicking. He was shocked, that in anyway, somehow, Genji was alive. He had lived, and in the first time in years he’d listen to his brother’s voice once again.

Mccree smiled softly, and unknowingly interrupted Hanzo’s thoughts with kind words, “Yeah, suppose I did...does this mean ya trust me now?” 

Hanzo huffed and smiled a little, “Yes, I suppose I do...What, what do you suppose you will do now?” Hanzo asked, slightly lost in himself and realization.

“Well, suppose I’ll be heading east with the rest of em’...don't suppose you’d like to tag along?” I mean, I wouldn't mind the company one bit, and I'm more than sure Genji wouldn’t mind, hell he says he misses you all the time when we were-”

“He missed me?” Hanzo quietly said, interrupting Mccree. 

“Yeah...You, you might not believe it, but Genji always wondered what happened to you. I ain’t gonna lie, for a while he was beyond pissed, a lot of angst built up in him, but after talkin’ with Gabe and Angela, things became a lot clearer for him. He’d get real depressed some days, thinkin’ about you and where you might be, wonderin’ if you were alive. It’d be a big weight off his shoulders knowin’ you’re still alive and kickin’.”

Hanzo looked away and towards the recording, almost tempted to replay it just to hear his brother’s voice, but he’d resist the temptation in solution for a better one, “If you say you would not mind the company...I suppose it would be in my best interest to...revisit my brother again.”

Something fluttered inside Mccree, a wave of relief and happiness, “ Alright, lets clean up, rest up, and pack up, we’re headed east.”


	8. Off the Beaten Path

That night, they had packed their bags ready for the morning. Hanzo had welcomed a warm bath and bed, enjoying the luxury while he can. It had been ages since he could thoroughly wash, let alone use warm water and a bed with clean sheets. However it wasn't to last, they had a journey ahead of them, Hanzo and Mccree. They were headed east.

Well rested for once, his stomach was full and Hanzo found himself in a calming mood.

There was no deep pit of dread in his stomach, no racing thoughts and no distrust in the odd cowboy saint who had, in a way, rescued Hanzo in a way he wasn't aware of.

Hanzo sat by the pond with Yori, despite her size, found herself comfortable in Hanzo’s lap. Nearby, the buckskin stallion grazed on the fresh, growing green grass. This place seemed all too good to be true, and Hanzo couldn't help but think that after all Genji had gone through, whatever or however he survived before he was found, deserved this peace. Why had Genji left, and become a wanderer again? Why had Mccree? He then remembered what Mccree had said that night they fought, “he’s looking for you,” and if that was the case, for what? Why would Genji want to reach out to the brother who left him to die?

Hanzo's calming mood wasn't set to last long.

A more important question began to bloom in his mind, how did he survive? He remembered several undead tackling him, his screams of agony. 

Another realization began to hit him. Throughout the chaos, Hanzo never took full notice of Mccree’s, only that it was there. Mccree’s left hand was a prosthetic, he had saved Hanzo before with it.

How had Mccree lost it? Did Genji hold prosthetic as well? A new scenario formed in his head, perhaps it was possible for Genji to have survived.

What if the scream of agony was an amputation, had Genji sacrificed apart of him to live? But that wouldn't line up with what Mccree had told him, Genji was only sorta alive in Mccree’s words. What was supposed to mean? He was well enough to travel, and well enough to speak…

Hanzo snapped out from his thoughts, the more he thought of it the more Hanzo’s head began to hurt, the more confused he was. 

Yori’s head lifts from Hanzo’s lap, causing Hanzo to look up the what she was. Her tail began to thump lazily as Mccree too a seat in the grass beside Hanzo. A warm and tanned hand scratched the thick and soft pelt of Yori, who gave a sigh of happiness as she laid her head back down.

“Hope you don't mind me joining ya,” Mccree said all too late.

Hanzo didn't reply, looking into the pond’s still water ahead of him, hoping to discreetly examine his prosthetic.

“Ya know you can ask if yer curious, It doesn't bother me talkin’ about it,” he said looking at Hanzo through the pond’s reflection.

Hanzo stiffened a little, he had been caught so easily. Perhaps it may be that it wasn't his first time being asked. “I... assumed that you lost it to the undead?”

Mccree let out an amused 'hah!’,”you ain't to far from the truth. I use to be in a gang, it was the safest option really after the whole shit show went down with the undead…”

Mcree continue his story, and Hanzo listened intently, “Often times, when a stranger passes through a territory and taking supplies it was custom to take then hostage, because they'd usually be desperate enough to join or worth something to someone. If neither, they made good zombie bait. We caught Gabe, took him in as a prisoner and me and some other gang members were suppose to watch him. Course, I was a little shit back then, yet somehow with my attitude and snarkiness, Gabe saw right through me, made a secret friend outta me. In the end, he'd be the only one to stick by me. A zombie hoard tore through the warehouse in the Deadlock’s western territory, an’ we were told to evacuate. Some of us didn’t make it…” Mccree said, his voice lowering somberly, “ I was almost one of them. We cut Gabe loose, didn’t matter to have prisoners when everyone was runnin’ for their lives. Then we ran out of bullets, so It was just me, several other members I thought were my buds, and Gabe. We found a room to huddle in and hide, seemed pretty alright, like we might get through it till it came tackling me from the closet, how the hell one ended up in there I’ll never know. Ended up trying to make a meal of my arm before Gabe gave it a nice wack on the head with a knife,” Mccree gave a chuckle, “and my dumb ass self thought we searched him head to toe. So there I was crying and in pain, in fear cause I thought that, that was it. I was gonna turn. I turned to my buds and they were scared, they begged Gabe to kill me and when he refused they ditched it, cause to hell if they were going to turn too. They left me there to turn, and I turned to Gabe in anger askin’ him to end me, cause I’d rather die than be one of them. He told me, ‘I have a better idea kid but it’s gonna hurt, you might even pass out.’ He ripped apart of his shirt and tied it above my arm. I knew what he was about to do, and he knew I knew. I thought I knew pain, but clearly, then I was mistaken. He started cuttin’ away at it and man did the smell of blood tic off the undead into a frenzy. He kept telling me everything was gonna be okay, that I was going to a better place, had me thinking I was gonna die. I ended up passin’ out from blood loss, I don't remember much, kept fading in and out. When I woke up though, I was in a hospital, and Gabe was there sleepin’ on the side of the bed. His hand was still clutching tightly in my other hand. Torb ended up making me a prosthetic after. Gabe helped me through a lot, was a dad I never had when growin’, up,” Mccree said with a sad reminiscent smile.

“You...were lucky to have found such a kind family, and so was Genji,” Hanzo said, softly whispering the last part. 

“Yeah, we were lucky...and that’s why we’re goin’ to make it up, you’ll get a second chance with Genji, hell maybe even with the rest of us. Now, what do you say, let’s get the hell outta this place?” Mccree said, standing up and offering a hand to Hanzo. 

 

Yori moved off Hanzo’s lap, and Hanzo took Mcree’s hand up, “suppose that we survive till then, perhaps It wouldn’t be so bad…” Hanzo said softly with a hint of a smile. 

It had been two weeks since they had left the hospital, and oddly enough that it was as true as Mccree had said before, that traveling in woods had equated to fewer dangers and zombies. Though not as easily crossed or passed through as the roads were, Hanzo would much rather be safe than sorry. 

And it was that thought alone that confused Hanzo, not too long ago, he had pleaded with death to end him, or better yet, let him face the same suffering that Genji had gone through. He wished for death, and wouldn’t allow himself the relief until he could end Genji’s suffering. And yet spending time with a cowboy he’d just happen to save from being devoured and mauled, had changed all that. He’s learned that his brother had lived after all, in whichever form that was. He heard it, and Mccree had been telling him of it. What were the chances that he’d of ran into that man at all, should he’d been an hour before or after arriving in that part of the city? He’d of missed any chance with his brother, he’d of missed any encounter with the charming and kind-hearted cowboy.

He was good company too, there wasn’t a day where it was boring with Mccree, he almost made you forget what world exactly they lived in. though, Hanzo would never admit that aloud. Though lately, it seemed that he had been trying unsuspiciously get close to Hanzo, hands brushing while passing something, laying his sleeping bag closer, sitting closer by him next the fire to tell stories, or making up completely random topics to talk about.

“Hey Hanzo, mind pulling up the map? Think we're supposed to be reachin’ a town here soon, small thing near an energy plant or somethin’,” Mcree said eyeing the area. Hanzo pulled out the map from his pack, “yes we should be near, why?” Hanzo asked with a brow raised. 

“Well we ain’t trying to get poisoned by air, without anyone alive to maintain the power plant, it could leak or somethin’. But it’s getting really chilly and I thought we can, if safe enough, pass through the town and maybe check if any supplies can be salvaged,” Mccree explained. 

Hanzo nodded, and then pulled out a geiger counter from the pack, “It is fine to travel perhaps for several days, but not to settle down for too long,” Hanzo said putting the counter away. “Let’s hope not everythin’ is contaminated, and we just might score a few more blankets and supplies, and if not, it's still a great short cut,” Mccree said with a wink before walking off ahead. Hanzo couldn’t help but continue to stare, watching him walk ahead. 

Hanzo couldn’t deny that Jesse Mccree was roguishly charming, well he could verbally but he'd be lying to himself if he had. Hanzo had allowed himself to become more comfortable around Jesse, and Hanzo was beginning to wonder and think of things that a man his age or situation should rather not. After all, while companionship was good and in a sense therapeutic, a zombie apocalypse isn't the safest place to form any relationship above that. You could eventually make more friends should you lose one, losing a lover would devastate a person, break a person, it would hurt almost if not just as much as losing family. Hanzo looked down to Yori, who look back up at him with a snort, Hanzo sighed, “I Have the worst timing, don’t I?” He said to Yori who gave a bark in reply. He scratched her behind the ear and jogged to catch up to Mccree.

Mccree left Buckeye in a meadow nearby unpacked and set up camp. Mccree, knowing the closer they are to the town, the more radiation they’d probably get, or at least he assumed that was how it worked. With Yori and Buckeye’s keen senses and trained to alert, they’d be alright alarm system wise of undead intruders. They weren’t expecting many, but a decent amount at least as it was a town with a population.

After they had unpacked Mccree, after giving much attention and affection to his horse companion, headed on towards the town with caution and alert with Yori following along as well. 

The woods were silent, and the town gave off a strong stench of death. Hanzo covered his nose in his jacket, “That smell, putrid,” Hazo commented.

Mccree brought his scrape up to his mouth, “you can say that again, not even the city smelled this bad,” Mccree paused suddenly. 

“What? What is it?” Hanzo questioned as he went uphill towards Mccree, “don’t tell me we have to deal with another hoard,” Hanzo too stopped in mid-sentence. Below the down at the street of the city laid a horrific sight. 

Deer carcasses laid all over streets rotting among, among flies and ravenous undead. But the undead was nothing like the ones they’d seen before, grotesque as they savaged through the long-rotting bodies of deer and elk, bones and mushy entrails exposed and grunts and growls from satisfied occupants. 

Hanzo pulled Mccree down so that only their heads peaked from over the hill. It was then they got a clearer view of the undead, horribly disfigured as if they weren’t already as undead. Growths and misplaced facial features, some even had extra limbs and other sorts of distortions. 

“As if the zombie virus didn’t do enough, clearly radiation didn’t do much to help either,” Mccree whispered as he went back down the hill. 

“How bad do you want those supplies?” Hanzo asked Mccree. 

“Not that badly, say we rest here for the night then get the hell outta here?” Mccree said, “I’ll set up a few traps around camp justa be safe.” 

“I believe that would be for the best, yes,” Hanzo replied, and both men began to quietly walk back to their camp. 

After arriving back into camp and setting up several traps around the woods, the evening came quick casting darkness with limited light. With stomachs growling and the coldness of winter surrounding them, Mccree and Hanzo quickly made a fire to cook and warm themselves. 

Hanzo and Mccree had already fallen back into their natural rhythms as if they had been working alongside each other for far longer than they had. Mccree had always been an inviting person, but now comfortable with Hanzo, he was no longer a stranger, if anything a growing interest in Mccree mind as he did his best to try and figure out the mysterious yet brooding archer. Hanzo was the same, no longer as tense with the stranger once he felt he could be trusted, Hanzo’s walls began to lower around Mccree, whether it was Mccree’s trustworthy nature of pure intent to begin with. 

Even during their silent nights, which were rare but happened usually when they feared that the undead was near, they were comfortable as they would sit side by side watching the fire, or stealing glances at one another. 

Tonight, however, it wasn’t completely silent. They sat by the fire and spoke in low whispers. Tonight, Mccree sat closer to the last, nearly shoulder to shoulder as they shared several large blankets because as Mccree had put it, ‘body heat works best’. He wasn’t necessarily wrong, it was warmer when they shared a blanket. But there was also the fact they were two lonely men, of which despite how well they have gotten to know one another, they hadn’t touched the subject of romance or desire much at all. 

Hanzo decided he’d take the first dive, and carefully worded his question, “I know you talk fondly of your family Jesse, but was there anyone you were particularly fond of?” 

Mccree gave a low heartfelt chuckle, “No they were all too close like family to be considered romantically. Non were really my type anyway, and I was too busy with missions with Gabe and Genji to think ‘bout romance. What about you? Had anyone to warm yourself at night with?” Mccree shot back boldly. 

Hanzo blushed, “not many and never for long. Unlike Genji, I...was hesitant to make any relationships, friendly or otherwise. It only worsen after I thought he had died.” Hanzo replies honestly as he faced the fire before him. Hanzo smirked suddenly and shifted his eyes towards Mccree, “but if we’re talking warming, I suppose you could count now in a literal sense.” 

Mccree rose a brow, and decided for a bold move, “I can make it a bit warmer, if you’d let me of course,” he said just below a whisper, almost a murmur.

“I invite you too,” Hanzo replied, his eyes drifting from the fire to meet Jesse’s gaze. Jesse moved in slowly, a burning sensation enveloping him, it had been a long time since Jesse had a chance to express affection, It didn’t help that Mccree had over time began to develop a small crush on the brooding mess that was Hanzo Shimada, a handsome one at that. Jesse gently wrapped an arm around Hanzo’s waist and moved on closer towards him. Mccree nearly skipped a beat as Hanzo brought his head rest against his chest. 

“You are indeed very warm,” Hanzo admitted aloud with a smile. Jesse’s chest rumbled with a chuckle, “well I’m glad I could help.” 

Jesse only smiled a little more as he felt Hanzo wrap an arm around him, and in return, he laid his head atop of Hanzo’s. 

The small moment of bliss was interrupted with Buckeye snorting and Yori barking. They immediately shot up. Something was running towards them, and Yori was growling now. Hanzo and Mccree picked up a bow and gun and loaded. The figure got closer and closer until the light could just barely illuminate the figure. Hanzo lowered his bow, and Jesse lowered his gun. 

Before them Genji Stood with his hands up, two others behind him. His gaze flickering from Mccree to Hanzo, back to Mccree and taking a double take at Hanzo. But there wasn’t much time for introductions, as all Genji muttered was, “run.”


	9. Untimely Reunion

Behind them were the growls and screeches of the undead. Mccree hurriedly packs up several important stuff into a pack and simply throws the blanket over Buckeye, abandoning the saddle and reins and slips a rope around him, “come on,” Mccree says as he, along Hanzo, Genji, and two others head out. Yori yets out another series of barks as the undead before racing off to join the others at Hanzo’s side. 

The night began with the rustling of leaves and dead grass, the quick shuffling of feet and erratic breathing from the living as they raced with the gnarring undead. They screeched and hollered out for any one of them to slip up, to fall behind to fail the run so that they could begin their feast. 

“Where are we even headed?” Mccree called out between breaths, of which both Hanzo and Genji replied in unison, “The cabin.” Mccree’s nodded, there had been a cabin not too far from the town, however, it was locked and Hanzo nor Mccree wanted to waste precious sunlight to try and open the door without breaking it. Even if getting in would still be a problem, it was the best of not many solutions they had left as their endurance dwindled.

Soon the cabin was in sight, and with a last flicker of hope, they ran harder and faster. They skidded to a halt before the cabin and from there Hanzo and Mccree looked to one another, panting and wondering what was going to happen from there. Suddenly there was a click, “In, get In!” Genji yelled. The two strangers didn’t hesitate, Yori and Hanzo walked in and Mccree didn’t once hesitate to bring in Buckeye, and it didn’t seem like Genji wasn’t going to say much about it.

He quickly rushed in, locking and shutting the door behind him. “You’d been in this cabin the entire time?” Mccree said while collapsing on the floor, catching his breath.

“Not the entire time, Just yesterday, there was a key under the mat, and to prevent theft, we locked it.”Genji Shrugged. 

A sudden banging and snarls at the door made everyone jump, everyone but Genji. Yori snarled with a barely open maw and eyes shifting from the people in the room, and the door. Buckeye startled and trotted in place, flicking his head. 

Hanzo hadn’t said a word as he panted and slide down the wall of the cabin, looking at Genji. He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe his eyes nor ears. In an odd and twisted fate here Genji sat, arms folded and relaxed before him across the one-room cabin. They looked to each other, and tensions rose in room, no one talked. 

Hanzo examined his brother from across the room. He looked paler than he remembered, and his eyes were duller and carried a heavy calmness to them as they stared back into Hanzo’s stern but worried look. Genji’s right hand was metallic, much like Mccree’s. It only made him think of how Genji escaped, his little morbid theories. His hair, unlike Hanzo’s own, didn’t gray, it was still the same jet black as before. Scars littered his face, but they were, for the most part, healed ones that only traced the remnants of what they were. They didn’t seem to just litter his face but over most of his body.

Hanzo was then very suddenly aware of the katana he carried on his back, and how it very much matched the wakizashi that sat by Genji’s side. 

“Long time no see, brother,” Genji said breaking the silence, “I never expected you to still be alive.” 

“I could say the same…” he said leaving it at that, the memories he’d been trying to push back began to flood back as Hanzo’s eye’s began to get watery, his face scrunching to pull back tears.

The two brothers suddenly got up from their sides of the wall, and walk towards each other in a tense silence filled the room as the two stranger and Mccree watched, the outside growls and thuds had even muted, for now. 

They stopped just in front of one another, eyes never leaving the others. Hanzo could feel a sort of panic settle inside of him. A scene so similarly played in nightmares, only now he was in a cabin, and Genji wasn’t entirely an undead. Hanzo didn’t know what his brother was, he looked mostly human, but something about him didn’t look or feel human.

But that didn’t matter now. What felt like an eternity was all but several seconds, and Genji finally spoke. 

“I’ve missed you so much, anija,” he spoke softly but with warmth as he brought Hanzo into a hug. Hanzo didn’t hesitate to hug him back and hid his tears in the sleeve of his brother, “I missed you too,” Hanzo choked out.

Mccree looked on with a smile and heavy eyes. It was nice, to see his best friend and possibly romantic travel companion reunite. He’d seen them both suffer, both wishing for the other for so long, it was almost ironic how He seemed to be the spectator of both stories. 

Mccree turned his attention to the other two. A mocha skinned man smiled as well at the couple. He had long dark raven dreads kept back in a loose ponytail and warm, kind dark eyes, he looked vaguely familiar in some sense and Mccree couldn’t place why. Beside him sat a bronzed skinned man, he looked no older than the rest of them in the room, but gave an air of wisdom to him. He had soft, amber eyes and a sleek physique. 

The night had settled down once again, and the frosted cold drifted into the wooden cabin once again. It was silently agreed on that it would be best to rest now and introduce one another later the next morning. Taking blankets left from the pack, they made a makeshift bed in which they all could rest somewhat comfortably. They all huddled close to one another for warmth, the strangers beside Genji, Genji beside his brother Hanzo, and Mccree beside Hanzo. The night was quiet again, it was still and comfortable and it seemed that the undead had given up the chase for now. Upon fluttering heavy eyes, Mccree could feel a strong but gentle hand grasp his own beneath the blankets. Mccree gave a weak tired smiled as he softly squeezed the hand back before falling into a well-deserved sleep.

The next morning, they had all awoke in the late mid-morning. Still unsure of whether or not it was safe to go on outside, and more so not wanting to risk anything. Nothing was known from what, or how many were around the house, the undead were known to wait out or even stalk their prey. Mccree set to passing out a cold soup for breakfast. He passed an open can to the mocha skinned man first, “Name’s Lucio, nice to meet you, man! I’ve heard a lot of stories about you from Genji,” he cheerfully introduced himself. And Mccree thought he held himself well, “Pleasures all mine, name’s Jesse Mccree.” 

 

Next came the bronze man, “greetings,” he said in a soft, calm, but powerful voice, “ I’ve heard many great things about you.” Mccree nodded, “Howdy, think I’ve heard some stuff about you too, yer the one who helped Genji on his solo travels right? Zen...er, Zenyatta?” he questioned passing the soup. Zenyatta gave a soft, amused smile, “Zenyatta I am,” he replied. 

Mccree grabbed 4 more cans, opening one for Yori to eat and patting Buckeye. Sadly, he’d have to wait until they exited, but Buckeye didn’t seem to mind as he calmly stood there, probably catching a few more Zs before heading out. 

Mccree headed over to Genji and Hanzo who seemed to be talking about something. 

“Could we not simply go around?” Hanzo questioned his brother, looking at the map. 

Genji shook his head, “I’m afraid not, the town may seem small but the undead in it and around it are...unlike others we may have encountered before.” 

Mccree smiled as he watched the two brothers, after a heartfelt reunion, seemingly fall back into a new normal. Mccree sat right in front and in between the two brothers, “sorry to interrupt but, breakfast calls for ya,” he smiled.

Genji took a careful look at the can of soup given to him, a beef stew. Genji and Mccree exchanged a knowing glance, “thank you, Jesse.”

Hanzo rose a brow in suspicion. “I have...a specific diet I must follow,” Genji vaguely answered. 

Hanzo glanced at the can of soup and said nothing more of the situation, for now, it appeared.

“So how’s the plan movin’ along so far?” Mccree asked passing Hanzo’s own soup over while opening his own.

“We can’t seem to agree on how to maneuver across and away from the town, as it seems the town is infested with what my brother calls ‘super-evolved’ undead,” Hanzo said crossing his arms. 

“The safer route would be to cross the nearby mountain path,” Genji said pointing onto the map. 

“But we don’t have the supplies to last the mountain pass, nor enough horses or otherwise to carry the supplies,” Hanzo shot back. 

“So you suggest we take the road down towards the town? A suicide mission?” Genji questioned. 

“We have the manpower, the population couldn’t be that big,”Hanzo answered. 

“How about we take the other road, it's a small ways back, and It’s not as safe a path as the mountains, but it avoids the radiated undead townies and leads to a small city we could restock ourselves with maybe even a few farms to take a few horses.” 

Genji and Hanzo looked to one another and nodded. “I’ll go tell the plan to the others,” Genji said getting up, and patting the back of his friend as he headed on towards Zenyatta and Lucio. 

Hanzo gave a sigh, “I'm beginning to wonder if we’ll ever make it out of this hell,” Hanzo said tiredly, rubbing his temple trying to rid the headache. 

Mccree gave a smile and warm chuckle, “Aw, Han don’t ya say that. Soon enough, dawn will be just down the road, and we’ll be sailing the hell outta this hellhole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to thank you all for reading it till the end if you did :"D there will be a squeal to this continuing the adventure! Um, but yeah not sure what else to say but thank you <3

**Author's Note:**

> hey, my first fic officially being posted :"D not sure what to say but thanks for the read!


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